


Lay It On Me

by Queenofthefaceless



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Both you and Javi are stubborn and resentful towards each other, F/M, Lots of filthy sexual acts, Rough Sex, Roughness In General
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthefaceless/pseuds/Queenofthefaceless
Summary: You and Javier work together but absolutely cannot stand each other. One day after a massive argument, things escalate and you re-direct all of your anger and frustration elsewhere.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You, Steve Murphy (Narcos)/You
Comments: 28
Kudos: 77





	1. Lay It On Me

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: rough office sex, choking, some spanking, some dirty talk, unprotected sex, doggy style, orgasm denial, dom!Javi, oral sex (both f & m receiving),

His blood was boiling in his veins. He couldn’t even bare to look at you. That’s how furious he was.

Ever since you’ve joined the team, months ago, it seemed you were on a quest to get on Javier’s nerve, down to the very last one. More often than not, you were paired with him, Steve and Colonel Carillo for miscellaneous missions. Though you were incredibly competent and skilled on the field, you also possessed a special gift to get Javier beyond mad. It was the way you contradicted him and disagreed with him on almost everything, from the smallest things up to the important job details, and truthfully, it was a miracle either one of you had made it that far into your professional relationship without choking the shit out of each other.

Not that Javier would’ve been _truly_ opposed to that possibility.

You were a massive challenge, an even bigger headache, and sometimes, the dark and primal instinct in the back of Javier’s mind was certainly enjoying the power play you two had going on. That was the core issue, though. You and Javier were _too_ much alike. Both stubborn, with anger issues, and certified alphas.

But that day, already long and exhausting, when Javier left downtown to discuss the plan for the stakeout one last time, the stakeout he had thoroughly planned for the past couple of weeks and he found that it had been canceled, without any notice, he saw red. And he knew exactly the culprit.

It was around midnight when he found you back at the office, looking through a stack of papers.

“Peña,” you greeted him carelessly, eyes locked on the folders on your desk. “I thought by this hour you’d be in one of your sleazy bars. Or fucking all the common sense out of a poor girl who just wants to make a dime.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

His sharp response gained your attention. You observed him intently, and when you were met with his flaming gaze, you realized he was beyond mad.

“What I do in my spare time is nobody’s fucking business,” he muttered, losing contact with reality as he dared to lock eyes with you.

“Then do a better job at hiding it.”

He sucked his cheeks in, anger only rising more inside of his chest, roaring like a hungry lion.

“Who gave you permission to cancel my stakeout?”

“I did. I gave myself permission.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I spoke with Messina and Carillo and there was no need for a stakeout. We got enough information about Quica.”

“Half of which I got.”

You licked your bottom lip, smirking disapprovingly at him. You had anticipated that response from him, honestly, and it was no surprise to see him react that way.

You abandoned the papers and moved a few inches closer to him, “Well I am not one of your whores who can give out random information in exchange for an orgasm. I work faster. And cleaner, at that.”

“I’ve spent two weeks planning everything for this fucking stakeout, and you march in Messina’s office, behind my back, and call it off?”

“Why don’t you say what this is really about? You not being able to stand me.”

“You’re right. I can’t stand you. You make my blood boil.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Silence. The two of you shared a look so dark, so willing for so much more than just words that it would’ve scared you if this would’ve been a confrontation with someone else.

“But even with that in mind,” you continued, daring to approach him even more, fully knowing you were entering a risky territory, “what the fuck is your problem? If this would’ve been Murphy’s stakeout, he wouldn’t have been so troubled. Hell, he would’ve even thanked me, probably.”

“Oh, you want thanks? Thank you for making me waste hours on end planning everything for this fucking stakeout!”

You narrowed your eyes, reckoning his emotions were no longer professional.

_No_. There was much more in between.

“Eres tan jodidamente molesto, lo juro,” he suddenly blurted out. “Es como si vivieras en mi cabeza por lo mucho que me molestas.”

“Te das cuenta de que hablo un español perfecto, ¿no?”

Obviously, he was unaware that your level of Spanish was far more advanced than he ever heard, so he hesitated.

“What the fuck is your problem, Peña?! You’ve been riding my ass the entire time that I’ve been here!”

“Believe me, you would’ve known if I were to do that.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Involuntary, reflexive, but a real chuckle. “Oh, that is rich. That is… just… rich. You’re gonna play the fucking macho card? Really?”

“Really,” he muttered in between clenched teeth.

“Because you’re that good.”

“Because I am that fucking good.”

“Sleeping with whores is not a personality trait.”

Javier frowned, biting the inside of his cheeks again. It was too difficult to maintain a proper conversation with you. The rage, the quiet and yet deadly desire to overpower you were too consuming, too much in the back of his mind.

“Do you know when to shut up?” he asked you, in your much-too-close proximity now.

“Do _you?_ ”

“For fuck’s sake – “

“Listen to me well, Peña. I am not one of your little friends who needs a decent amount of money and then you can rail me however you want. I am someone who works very hard and has to fight three times as much as any other person here simply because I am a woman in the fucking DEA. Don’t push me.”

“Or what?”

You were at a crossroads. The natural, most obvious choice was simple: leave the office. It was midnight, with no one else there but you and him, and you did not need that aggravation. You did not need that headache.

But this was Javier fucking Peña. Your partner and nemesis at the same time, your unresolved mystery and your highest of curiosities. The man was impeccable on the field of work, but his reputation spoke volumes: he was an insatiable womanizer, a woman pleaser with no intention of ever staying. To top it all off in the worst possible way, he was ridiculously attractive and tempting.

And you were not keen on commitment for the time being anyway.

So you had forsaken the obvious, natural choice for something with more flavor.

“How many of your pretty little ladies have you managed to successfully satisfy?”

The question threw him off guard; it was readable from his wide eyes and slight frown. But he answered nonetheless, “Each and every one of them.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So what are we gonna do about this problem, Peña, hmm?”

Only one thing came to Javier’s mind, and you were certain it was the same answer you had because the next second, his mouth smashed against yours.

There was nothing sweet or tender about the kiss. It was pure neediness; of course he opted for sex. It was his medicine. His predicament for every time something went poorly or bad in his life. Being inside of someone was what he craved the most aside cigarettes or a burning shot of whiskey, and since he had neither of the prior two, he chose you. And you let him. You let him slide his filthy tongue inside your mouth, you let his large hands grab the hem of your shirt and desperately tug on it, ripping it carelessly. You were pushed against the desk, your legs open wider with each breath he took into the kiss, allowing him more access to your body.

He was getting impatient, as were you; his erection poked through his jeans already and upon feeling the tip of it, you shivered, helping him remove his own shirt.

“Turn the fuck around,” he said.

You did as you were told, for what felt like a premiere in your partnership, and Javier’s hand bent you over the desk completely. There was a momentary lack of touch or sound which made you think about what was about to happen, but seconds later, when you felt his tongue licking harshly against your folds, you grabbed onto the desk for dear life, mouth ajar at the swift contact. His motions were fast and decisive, filling your body with an explosive sensation of indigence. You wanted to feel even more of him, to move against him, to rub yourself on his face, but he allowed for no such thing: his hands were tightly gripped on your hips, immobilizing you on the piece of furniture as he mercilessly ate you out.

“Look at how fucking wet you are,” he said from somewhere in between your legs.

You barely registered what he said. The trance you were stuck into prevented you from doing so, and honestly, it felt so maddeningly good that you weren’t even angry or upset anymore. If anything, you were glad. It had been a long time since you thought about sexual encounters. Work had taken control over your life, and when you weren’t working, you were drinking or sleeping.

“So fucking wet,” Javier muttered again. “Preaching about integrity when you were this wet just talking to me.”

“Shut – the f-fuck up, Peña.”

_God_ , his mouth was one of the world’s wonders, or at least it should have been. You wanted to yell and plead for more, but you bit your tongue and did no such thing. You weren’t about to beg for anything from Javier Peña or else you would never heard the end of it.

He added a finger to his torture, stretching you out, reaching for that spot inside of you which nearly made your eyes go back into the back of your head. No one ever dared be that bold with you, reaching for spots that would make you cum just by thinking about them, but there he was, doing just that.

You grunted, wanting him to pay attention to your warning, but he pressed your head onto the desk, gently, and abandoned your pussy in order to come next to your earlobe and whisper shamelessly, “You’re not gonna cum unless I want you to.”

_“Fuck you.”_

“Not tonight you won’t, cariño.”

You had to admit, a twisted part of you enjoyed the talk more than you would’ve ever let yourself believe. It was fucking orgasmic how high his words and his voice managed to send you, especially given the pet name he chose to address you by.

The absence of his lips on your pussy was replaced moments later with his cock, hard and thickened with desire, and he established a fast pace right from the start. He grunted endlessly, your warmth and tight feeling creating a cocktail of ecstasy and pleasure that he seemingly never felt before. You bit your lower lip to the point where you tasted blood in your mouth, but you didn’t give a damn. You were not about to beg Javier for anything, much less then.

“Where’s your smart mouth now, Y/N?” he grunted.

“I – I still – have – it – “

His right hand snaked up your spine all the way up to your neck, grabbing it as he thrusted from behind, fast and hungrily. His other hand was on your hips, grip tight and secure on your hips, preventing you from moving whilst pulling you by the ass to meet his cock, reaching deeper and deeper inside of you. You choked on air as well as the way his fingers were holding over your throat, causing your body to convulse and bend you at his will.

“Fuck – _fuck_ – J-Javier – “

He couldn’t finish his sentence. He barely recognized himself in that scenario, but he needed to cum badly, and his entire body burned and ached with your presence. He wouldn’t have thought he lived to see the day where he would be pounding into you, but there he was, at your desk, at your mercy – even if you didn’t know it.

“That’s right – take it – take me in – take it, that’s right – look at you, so needy -“

“Fuck, you look so good – bent over like this,” he muttered. “Bent over – f-for me – “

“Y-Yes – oh, shit – “

“You take me in s-so – good, look at you – fucking shit – “

You could only moan, the impending feeling of your orgasm creeping up over in.

“You’re taking – all of me in – “

Javier watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared in and out of you as he continuously pounded into you. He decided in the heat of the moment to remove the grip he had over your hips and focus on your ass instead, giving it a few slaps, smirking when the flesh reddened.

“That’s right – now you’re a – a good fucking girl – “

You didn’t even want to protest anymore; all you wanted to do was cum, but you remembered Javier’s previous words and you shivered once again. When you did so, he stopped, burying himself deeper – if possible – into you as he bent himself over your body to whisper in your ear, “Did you just cum?”

“No, you – asshole.”

“If you cum, I’ll start all over again.”

“Just let me cum, you annoying piece of shit!”

Javier loved it. He loved every minute of it. He loved the power play, the disobedience you had, your stubbornness, how wet and willing you were for him, all of it. He began thrusting into you again, this time his grip focusing on your hair. He pulled you into a delicious curve closer to him, making sure at the same time that he was not hurting you too much, and finally came, cursing under his breath as he did so, stopping every now and then to feel everything, to feel you, to feel himself coming in between you tight walls, to hear every sound you made.

Javier moved slower, deeper still, resisting the urge to pepper a trail of kisses along your back. It was awfully tempting, but he could not do it. _This was nothing but an office hookup._

_There was nothing more he could offer._

When he felt like he had total and upmost control over you and over his own emotions, he increased his pace once again, desperately seeking to feel you cum around his cock.

“Come on – “he muttered to you. “Come on, cariño – “

“F-Fuck – _yes_ – “

“Take it, cariño – take it and – fucking cum for me – there, yes –“

Almost on command, your insides burned at the sound of his demanding and coercive voice and you came at last, your walls tightening around him, legs shaking under his weight and mind fogged with pleasure. He loved knowing he made you cum, whether through anger or pushing your buttons, he loved it. He loved how you feel, how your ass bounced against his cock, how well you took him in and how turned on you were by your earlier confrontation.

_It was just an office hookup_.

_He had nothing more to offer_.

He pulled out of you at last, gasping as he looked at his semi-hard cock. When you turned around, face up, your breaths were ragged, your face sweaty and your body aching. But not in the bad way. By no means.

“Seems you still got a bit of a problem there,” you said short on breath.

Javier even glanced at his cock, and before he could protest or say anything, he watched in shock as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, eyes glued to his all the while. You used a hand to stroke the base and the rest you simply teased with your tongue, licking and taking it inch by inch, causing Javier to throw his head back and lose his goddamn mind over it. He’d been sucked and jerked off before, but it was something bewitching and devilish in the way you did it. Maybe it was because he knew you hated him and he hated you, who was to say.

He fought off the urge to see you gag and reach the depths of your throat, but of course you went ahead and played the devil’s advocate, stopping just when he felt that burn in his groin and he muttered “Fuck” on a loop.

“What the fuck?” he snapped at you.

You shrugged. “I didn’t want you to cum unless I said so.”

Shocked but pleasantly surprised by how darn well you played your cards, Javier chuckled, smirk evaporating in the blink of an eye. He refused to show anything more than what he had already showed you.

_It was an office hookup._

_He had nothing else to offer._


	2. You Made a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier expects to return to your usual bickering at the office the next day, but he soon realizes he needs that filthy predicament he shared with you in order to maintain his professional relationship with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: cum play, doggy style against the wall, dirty talk, hair pulling & choking

Javier came into the office right on time, a rare occurrence for him. He tucked his shirt further in his pants, wishing he had a cigarette to calm himself down. He’d been up all night, reminiscing over and over about last night’s unexpected confrontation with you.

During the night, he realized he had made a terrible mistake. He was not afraid about you running your mouth over the office, blasting about what had happened between you two. He was worried more about the fact that your working relationship would be even more difficult than before. What he knew with certainty in that moment was that, upon entering the office and making visual contact with you, you looked at him the same way you always did. You didn’t linger with your gaze, you didn’t try to send him any message, nothing. You acted the same way as you usually did, so that eased his conscience.

It was just an office hookup. He knew that, you knew that. It was over now, so you could go back to your usual bickering.

He was looking over the information that was gathered on La Quica with you when Horacio came up to both of you, looking disheartened. “Did you hear the screams last night?”

Both you and Javier looked up, immediately restless.

“What screams?” you asked.

“There were no screams,” Javier added.

“There were no screams.”

Horacio frowned at both of you. “The ones from the explosion, two blocks away from here. Didn’t you stay up late at the office?”

You exchanged a fugitive look with Javier and smiled somewhat flustered, fortifying with a shaky “We did.”

“Why did no one call us?”

“We did. Murphy and I tried to reach both of you.”

You were mute, and so was Javier. Fuck, you thought. The last thing you needed was distraction from work, however sinful, angering or delicious it might’ve been.

“We must’ve lost track of time,” you responded in a haste.

“Figures. Really good job on the information, Y/LN.”

You smiled at Horacio as he walked away, breathing with relief once he was out of your visual and auditory field.

“Who did you have to sleep with to get your intel?” Javier asked.

Smirking with upmost displeasure, you licked your bottom lip and leaned closer to him, making sure no one heard you. “Not everyone uses the same methods as you do.”

“It’s not stupid if it works.”

“It may not be stupid, but it may be disgusting.”

You wanted to leave, but you leaned even closer to him, breathing hot air on his earlobe as you whispered, “Just because I like women too, it doesn’t mean I sleep around to do my job.”

Javier was stunned at the bewildering confession, and you knew you played your card right. His mouth was partially open, pupils dilated as every other man who ever heard a woman talk about her preferences. You might have been in a sexist and tough environment to begin with, but you refused to let your male colleagues sexualize you, so you removed any doubts or suspicions out of the way.

Still astounded and unresponsive, Javier joggled through his day’s tasks with a little difficulty. Here’s the thing he omitted by his sheer fault: with each disagreement you and him had, each contrary opinion, the sole thing he could think about was silencing your annoyingly skilled mouth just like he did last night. You were a pain in the ass, but you sure sounded damn good writhing beneath him, taking him in and arching your body to the rhythm of his hips. You were only good enough when he was inside of you, and that happened one time and one time alone. It was over now.

He had nothing more to offer you.

The more the day advanced and the usual disputes occurred, the more he felt his anger rise in his chest, raging at him once again. He bit his cheeks and lips in order to keep his composure at Messina’s meetings or whenever he spoke with anyone from the office, but it was tough having to work in close proximity to you when all of that anger was overriding him.

Javier reached another breaking point when you entered the archive room, not even acknowledging his presence at first. Even having you in the same room was maddening.

“Can I help you?” he groaned.

You threw him a fugitive glance then returned to your search. “Nope.”

Your tone was dry, insensitive and cruel, just as you had intended. You knew he was smart enough to catch the message and be sufficiently annoyed with you to leave, but alas, he stood there, one arm against the shelves, a cocky look on his face.

“Alright, what is it now?” you huffed and turned towards him.

“You couldn’t just say ‘okay’ for the goddamn fucking raid tomorrow?”

“Seriously? We’re gonna have an argument over which proposed day was best?”

“We’ve fought for less.”

He had a point; one of the most ridiculously incomprehensible fights you’ve ever had with Javier was when he arrived late at the office and completely threw off your line of work. You’ve spent the rest of the day grumpy, fuming at the sight of so much as an inch of Javier.

And you knew the feeling was mutual. You knew that man loathed you with all he had.

“You need to get over yourself, Peña. Not everything is about you, not everything starts with you.”

“Could say the same about you if you wouldn’t have this fucking God complex.”

You snapped as well. You were so close to hitting him in the head with those boxes, but you took a deep breath and smiled as acidly as you could at him.

“Has bitterness ever gotten you anything good, Peña? Anything at all?”

“It’s got me this far, alive and well. How’s it going for you?”

“Splendid.”

The pause, the momentary lack of harsh words to be thrown at each other gave Javier the opportunity to remember once again last night’s events. He tilted his head to the side, barely so, and approached you. He needn’t ask anything from you nor say any words to you.

You felt the exact same thing. You thought of the same thing. There was one solution which brought you peace that very morning when you walked into the office. One very questionable, despicable solution that you inexplicably craved again.

On cue, both you and Javier moved closer to each other, lips heatedly smashing against one another, one of his hands gripping one side of your neck, gluing your body to his. The heat and want he was exuding through that measly kiss was astounding, damn near impossible to believe, but oh, it was real, alright; everything was happening faster than you could’ve anticipated. One second you were passionately making out, and the next one you were pinned against the wall, your back against Javier, your pants and panties dragged down with fury.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you whispered, your body eager at the idea of feeling him again.

You heard him fumbling with his pants and belt, hearing them drop and waiting with your heart in your throat for any contact. Seconds later, Javier’s cock filled you up again, easily sliding in. However the hell those arguments managed to make you so wet, you hadn’t the slightest clue, but it absolutely did not matter in that moment.

His pace was once again rough, taking you hard and fast right from the beginning, grunting at your shoulder. “You like it from behind, don’t you?”

His voice was dark, filled with some sort of sadistic pleasure at seeing you like that, no matter how much you drove him insane. You could say nothing in return as you tried to keep one of your legs at a decent angle, allowing him more access in.

“Moan for me.”

Javier didn’t need to ask twice, or at all even: your moans were involuntary and rapid, just as your breaths were. Your body was at his will, bent and stretched beyond the unimaginable. His fingers grabbed your hair, tugging it harder than last night, once again making you arch your back.

“Fuck, _yes_ – fuck, your pussy feels s-so good – around me – “

You tried your best to stifle your moans, remembering in a heartbeat that you were still in the evidence room, and if someone were to come in there, you both would’ve been done for.

The more silent, the better. It would’ve displeased Javier, which would’ve only made him fuck you harder, and that way, you were just gonna be done for and come undone with him inside of you.

“Harder,” you directed him.

Javier didn’t have a point of reference what exactly you wanted him to do harder, but he succumbed as well, needing to reach his high. He thrusted faster, his hand now wrapped around your neck again as he bent you over as much as he could, his thumb over your cheek.

“Look at you – so needy and desperate –

“Shut up – fuck – _yes – fuck_ – “

You felt your own climax rushing up and you tried to move to crash against Javier’s hips, but it was not quite doable. You could only move along the rhythm of his cock, feeling his tight grip over your neck, hitting pleasure centers in your body that had been dormant until then.

“Why can’t you always be a good girl like this, huh? _Huh?_ ”

You wanted to respond, but you were too busy feeling him, his fingers at your throat, preventing your moans from escaping your mouth and your climax building in you.

“Yes – f-fuck – right there – “

“You like to take it from behind, hm? You like it rough – and hard – and deep, don’t you?”

You nodded the best you could, grunting huskily as you came, legs and ass shaking against him, and that sudden movement triggered Javier’s own climax, arching his back as well when he came, making a few more thrusts inside of you, slower and deeper. It was the first time you came for him, because of him and with him, and it was the kind of bliss you would’ve never in a million years have expected.

When Javier slowed down, he glanced down, once again admiring the way his cock went in and out of you, the beautiful curves of your body and the lovely shape of your ass, bouncing against him. At the very least you felt vexingly good if nothing else.

He pulled out, suddenly dreading to see your face. Just like last night, when he was in you, when he fucked you from behind, it was just that. Rough sex. Two people having sex. No attachment, no acquaintance, nothing. But the second your faces met again, you were co-workers who despised each other and had to learn how to do your job together.

And you feared the same thing. Sure, you might have gained some tranquility from that particular activity and it lasted for a few hours, but there were certain rules you had to abide, and walking out of that room meant nothing was to come out of it. No one could know your filthy secret.

You almost instantly dropped to your knees, much to Javier’s surprise, stroking him a few times and earning a few low grunts in return. Pleased, you began to suck him off, one hand at the base of his cock, just like last night. It was simply not feasible to take him all in your mouth. He was generously gifted, and you would’ve undoubtedly gagged. _Badly_.

 _Maybe another time,_ you thought.

Javier tried to conceal his sounds as well, thought it was awfully hard. You sure knew your way around a man’s weakness, and surely, who else better suited for that than the one person he knew who could talk endlessly?

His fingers found their way back into your hair, yanking it to draw you closer, to tell you to take him in more. Your motions were wicked, each drop of your saliva leathering his cock and sending him further into a frenzy. _God, how he wanted to fuck your mouth, watch you swallow him and devour him completely…_

But you’d already been in there for too long and Javier felt like he could explode at any given moment. Words had fled from his mind completely as you overpowered him, for truly the first time, expressing your eagerness to have him cum at your will, at your utter desire. His body convulsed under the pressure of his climax, head thrown back, mouth entangled in your hair and cum spilling all over your jaw and in your mouth.

You waited till he came down from his high. You wanted him to look at you in the eyes as you took a finger and ran it over your jaw, sucking on it teasingly. Javier’s pupils dilated again, mouth open and dry as he watched you swallowed his seed, licking your lips afterwards.

He was right. Your mouth knew far more than to just yap at him all day, and it was _vexingly good._

“Hm. _Salty_. I wonder why that is.”

Adding nothing else to the otherwise non-existent and honestly futile conversation, you searched for your clothes and fixed yourself up before heading for the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peña.”

You winked at him and left the room, not a single glance thrown back. Still half naked and stupefied, he rubbed his chin, mirroring your gesture. It was the most daring and careless thing he had ever seen any woman do, and it gave him a sensation like never before.

_It was just an office hookup._

_Just an office hookup._


	3. Pain & Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier’s other private encounters suddenly don’t feel good enough anymore. He tries to convince himself it’s not a big deal, but naturally, he seeks you out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: oral sex [fem!receiving], face sitting

Normally, any encounter with his female companionships, but especially with Vanessa would’ve left Javier sweaty and tired, but immensely satisfied. He only felt exhausted this time around.

Something felt off.

And Vanessa was very dear to him. She knew exactly how she wanted Javier and what she liked and he delivered, time and time again. She sounded beautifully, made him cum hard, looked even better when he pounded into her and listened to him intently. And yet, in spite of all that wonderful imagery, Javier felt a lack of passion.

He never questioned things like that. He never put much thought into it. Why should he? There was always desire from him and his partners. He always believed that his sexual encounters were filled with passion and desire alike, but out of nowhere, it seemed that the thought of Vanessa and the rest of the girls at the brothels just doing their job, offering nothing sincere, tormented him. He now began to overthink every sound, every word of encouragement, every moment, every position. He absolutely loathed it.

And neither of his former flings felt right anymore. He had tried them all again, to be sure. It all felt dull and downright boring the way they all just willingly spread their legs for him the second they entered his apartment.

 _Fuck_.

He slept with you twice, and now he unwillingly and unknowingly turned rough, greedy sex with you into the standard of all his hookups. How the hell could that be? He loathed you, he hated everything you did against him. It was the worst possible outcome. More so because he actually craved that heat and that stubbornness, that spice into his life. Everything in between that made you and him break any moral rule known to mankind, he craved it.

But he’d be damned if he’d so much as hint to you about the repercussions your hookups have had on him. He’d never hear the end of it.

It was no longer a one-time event, though; twice you’ve let your rage and hunger get the worst of you. And, seemingly in sync with Javier’s thoughts, you reached out to him a week later.

“Can I steal Peña for a moment?” you smiled sweetly at Horacio.

“Of course.”

It was no secret to anyone in the entire DEA department that you and Javier were always bickering and being mean and petty to one another, more often than not out in the open, and Horacio was only glad to see you two handle your differences privately if nothing else.

But the conversation that would ensue had to remain hidden.

You closed the door to the evidence room, effortlessly noticing the stare in Javier’s eyes, as if petrified somehow. “What’s the matter?”

“Lots of memories attached to this place now.”

You frowned. “It’s one memory. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Javier rolled his eyes, small fraction of him pleased that you were back on your hatred-filled schedule. Anything else outside of that made him feel perturbed.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” you said, crossing your arms. “This happened twice now. And it seems that… afterwards, we actually… _tolerated_ each other.”

“Yeah, looks like it worked.”

You faltered, trying to organize your words somehow. It wasn’t that tricky to comprehend or state, but it was, to a certain extent, a delicate subject.

“I figure if this is gonna keep happening – “

Javier’s chuckle was involuntary, but it had its triggering effect: it punched you in the face with its ridicule.

“What’s so funny?” you asked acidly.

“So what, you’re saying you want to keep fucking me? You want me to keep fucking the anger issues out of you and vice versa? Is that it?”

“Yes, actually, because that seems to be the only time I can tolerate you, and vice versa. And let’s get one thing clear: the only reason this happened is because I let you. I allowed it to happen, I needed it just as much as you did. No way in hell you would’ve laid either one of your filthy fingers on me otherwise.”

He hadn’t expected your bluntness, but he welcomed it. He crossed his arms as well, carefully observing you now.

“Don’t be a dickhead and pretend like you didn’t enjoy it, big boy.”

Javier cursed himself mentally. God, how did your annoying and pretty ass become so desirable and hated at the same time?

“Fine, how’s this gonna go?” he asked carelessly.

“First of all, obviously, nobody will know.”

“Obviously.”

“Second of all, we don’t make it personal in any way. No sleeping over at each other’s place, no name calling, no crossing any line in front of our colleagues. That shouldn’t be a problem at all for you, you’re a sleazy womanizer who hates commitment and me.”

“I’m guessing this also won’t be a problem for you, ice queen.”

“Why, because I’m a woman and I’m supposed to be overly-emotional and co-dependent?”

Javier chose not to answer, having no feasible one now that he thought about it.

He had clearly underestimated you yet again.

“I am a bisexual woman working in a man-dominated field trying to catch narcos. Trust me, with the shit that I’ve had to put up with in the past and now still, I am not a cry baby.”

“Clearly not. You sure love to run your mouth a lot.”

You loomed him, a devilish smirk residing on your face. “As I recall, you love it when I do that sometimes.”

Javier’s throat closed up, his cock nearly twitching in his pants at the memories now haunting his mind.

“So no one knows, we don’t make it personal,” he recapitulated. “Anything else?”

“That’s it, I guess.”

“You do know that friends with benefits never ends well, don’t you?”

It was your turn to chuckle mockingly, offering Javier that very same bitter taste.

“Who said anything about this being a friends with benefits arrangement? It’s more like… enemies with medicine. A much needed medicine in order for us to be civil, it seems.”

Javier shrugged.

“And neither of us has to be worried about shit like ‘oh, I’m gonna catch feelings’ because we actively despise each other.”

You smiled, again mocking him with your candor, but Javier agreed in a heartbeat. You were simply too infuriating for anything else aside rough office sex.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Regardless of his instructions to Vanessa and in spite of how fabulously she moved and sounded, sex with her just didn’t do the trick for Javier. It lacked the authentic heat, the anger, the rush and desperation, the insatiable drive from edging the other, making them tremble with fury and ecstasy.

“Pareces diferente, Javi,” Vanessa told him, searching her purse for her cigarettes.

He didn’t respond, taking a long drag out of his own cigarette. He mechanically handed her his lighter and kept staring out the window, avoiding any answer or eye contact. Eye contact, he found, was deadly. It was too risky.

Eyes were the window to the soul, and Javier kept that window shut. He did not have anything more to offer other than physical pleasure.

“¿No te ha gustado?” she asked him.

“Por supuesto que sí. Sabes que siempre lo hago.”

_Of course I did. You know I always do. You miserable old liar._

“Pero te sentiste diferente,” Vanessa insisted.

Javier huffed, finishing his cigarette and paying her no more attention. There was nothing else to it. She had to take what she got.

He returned to the office, clothes messy on him, scanning the perimeter, filled with hope. He needed to try something, to know it for a fact. And sure enough, there you were, once again at your desk, reviewing some files.

“You’ve made it a happy to work late shifts, I see.”

You turned around as soon as you registered his husky voice. Quickly observing him, you noticed how disheveled he looked, how frustrated he seemed. You weren’t about to draw any conclusions or make presume anything given how you factually barely spoke to him in the past couple of days, but you figured his bad mood was, for once, not because of you.

So you waited for his inquiry, staring at him while he circled you.

“Can’t blame me for searching peace and quiet,” you said quietly.

“No. I can’t.”

“Okay, what do you want, Peña? I’m really not in the mood for the usual shenanigans.”

Javier’s facial expression darkened, dropping to examine you wholly as he took a few steps closer to you, seemingly inhaling your scent. You could feel the faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol, and it enticed you, angered you for strange reasons. He licked his lips, staring down on you, and you instantly realized.

Succumbing, you turned your back on him and worked against your skirt, but Javier grabbed your hands from behind. The move left you dumbfounded. You were on uncharted territory and it made you feel tense. However, you didn’t really question him; you allowed your body to go numb under his touch, quivering as he spun you around, kneeling before you and dragging down your panties with his index and his teeth, lifting your skirt.

His hot breath against your exposed core sent you into overdrive already. Your hands were hopelessly grabbing the desk’s edges, knuckles turning white at how hard you were holding onto it. you had no idea why he wanted to do that, why he seemed so busy with miscellaneous thoughts that had nothing to do with your usual hateful relationship, but fuck it if you gave a damn in that moment.

Javier’s hands harshly spread your legs before him, his fingers keeping your thighs in place, and you felt relieved in the slightest. _There’s that familiar roughness,_ you thought. You were afraid if that was to go missing. It would’ve meant the end of that medicine. It was all either of you knew: a fight for dominance and a desperate need for relief. And even as he wanted to eat you out until you were on the verge of tears, Javier only needed to hear you that night. Any sight of your face, and eye contact as he buried his face in your pussy would’ve instantly materialized the idea that you were his co-worker, his nemesis, his shadow self.

“Quiero comer bien esta noche, cariño,” he growled in between your legs.

You shivered and nearly clenched around his tongue, a bizarre requirement of trapping him inside of you appearing out of nowhere.

“Puedes hacer lo que quieras, solo hazlo,” you muttered, edged enough to explode.

Javier teasingly ran his thumb across your slit, barely touching, and you immediately lost any contact with reality. You tried to stifle a moan, but you failed quite miserably.

“Quiero comerte hasta que me lo pidas,” he said, now making circling motions around your clit.

_I want to eat you until you beg for me._

_Cocky motherfucker._

“F-Fuck – no me oirás rogar nada, Peña… nada.”

“Quiero oírte gritar por mí.”

“Nunca.”

 _You won’t hear me beg you for nothing,_ _Peña. Nothing._

_I want to hear you scream for me._

_Never._

You could’ve sworn you _heard_ him smile, even _felt_ it, but you resisted. It was torture, a personalized, burning your alive kind of purgatory for your sins, but you fought through it. You had to fight even harder when he finally put his lips against yours, licking you agonizingly slow, up and down, his tongue lashing out and working against your wetness. You nearly cried at how good he was eating you out, how well he knew how to push your right buttons. Of course he knew, he was constantly getting on your nerves. But you were absolutely not about to give him the immense satisfaction of seeing or hearing you beg for more from him.

You didn’t need him. You did not care to have him.

What you did need in that moment was his mouth. That was the extent of it. You needed to cum against his tongue, no questions asked and no other implications in the middle. The slurping sounds he made were driving you insane and worked wonders, just like his mouth: sometime later, your body shook under the weight of your climax, struggling to be set free from Javier’s harsh grip.

Only there was no escape. He let you ride out your orgasm, never stopping the cruel motions against your soaked pussy. He went as far as to taste all of you, take all of your juices in and suck you completely dry.

“Fucking h-hell, Peña – “

“For such a brat, you have such a good fucking taste.”

You couldn’t talk anymore after that. Your mind was wrapped in the devilish tango his mouth was still doing on you.

“Good girl – there you go – “

He lowered himself until he was lying down completely on the floor, having you atop his face; you shivered again, realizing for a cruel, fleeting second that you were fully sitting on his face as he resumed his eating. Your moans increased with every additional flick of his tongue, your hips grinding on him, rocking on his face as fast and deep as you could. Every motion was messy and unsteady, unlike his own, but they were desperate and needy by default. You bit down on your tongue, tasting blood in your mouth as you tried to prevent yourself from screaming or even saying his name. You denied yourself and him the honor of that cheeky pleasure. You held onto his broad shoulders, pushing yourself down even more, and at last, you came a second time, cussing as you rode out your orgasm again, smearing your face with your wetness.

“Good kitty – you’re purring so nicely now – “

You barely registered what he said. It took you a while to climb down from your high – and from his face, respectively – and to catch your breath. When you did so, you shot him a deadly stare as he licked his lips.

“Don’t – call me kitty.”

You were demeaning him, wanting your words to hurt him, but you were fully aware of the fact that he would never let it show, even if it would’ve worked on him. Javier was a master at flirtatious moments and concealing emotions that were outside the spectrum of his anger.

You allowed yourself a moment to regain your breath and watched him search for something. He returned a moment later, pack of cigarettes in his hands. He lit one, placing it in between his fingers, and you viewed absorbedly.

“I want one,” was all you said.

Javier looked over at you, raising an eyebrow and shifting his body closer to yours. Confused, you stared as stood up, took a long drag out of his cigarette and scrunched down to you again, grabbing your neck and stretching it to meet his mouth. You anxiously opened yours as he blew the smoke into it, your lungs taking it in immediately and blowing it out seconds later. The act was simple and yet it felt much too sensual for someone in that kind of situation.

He said nothing to you, but when you pleaded “Again”, he surrendered and again blew the smoke inside your cavities, reaching all the way down to press his mouth onto yours, giving you a taste of yourself, nicotine and whiskey.

Lately it seemed that those three were his characteristic scent, omnipresent on his mouth and mind alike.


	4. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a very heated turn at an office dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: heavy sexual tension, thigh riding (and thigh action in general), male masturbation.

The weeks went by with more progress on the Escobar chase. In spite of all of your differences and arguments, the feisty arrangement you and Javier had going on behind closed doors was functioning perfectly: your work ethic had never been better. You were both collaborating better and gathering information faster, and even managed to catch La Quica, which was a huge deal for the DEA.

Although she hadn’t wanted to go ahead of herself and jinx the progress made up until that point, Claudia Messina decided to throw a big dinner with whoever could make an appearance from the DEA department. Naturally, Horacio was been the first one to RSVP yes, followed suit by Steve, Colonel Lou Wysession, and last but not least, Javier and you. You were somewhat relieved that the dinner was held with professional intentions, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything regarding you and Javier.

You were almost ready with your shift when Steve came up behind you and pinched you, fully knowing you hated that. But honestly, when it came to Steve, you couldn’t be mad. He was absolutely charming and a great partner and friend – unlike others.

“Excited for the party tonight?” he asked, chewing some gum.

“It’s just a dinner.”

“Either way, we get some time off to drink as collectively traumatized people and I am here for it.”

“Me too. Lately everything’s been so… hectic.”

“I know what you mean. So what’re you gonna wear tonight?”

He winked at you, causing you to giggle. “Steve Murphy, are you _flirting?_ ”

He shrugged. The question had much deeper roots than one might think upon first hearing it. Steve had been divorced for four months now, and Connie’s discontinued presence from his life took its toll on Steve. He barely ate, barely slept, drank until he sobbed and drowned himself in work. He was at that moment the most hardworking agent in the DEA, you thought.

So whenever you saw him happy, even in the slightest, you were celebrating alongside him. And that conversation was no exception.

“Trying to,” he admitted, scratching the back of the neck. “Is it working?”

Although there was a shred of truth to his intention of flirting with you, you knew he was mostly joking, just as well as he knew that you had a very strict rule against dating co-workers.

Thankfully that was not the case even with Javier.

“You know what, I think it is,” you said, gently tugging at his tie. “I have this short black dress, form-fitting – “

Steve gulped and chuckled embarrassed. “Okay, so I still got it.”

“Don’t you wanna hear about the full outfit, Murphy?”

He paused, clearly not having expected you to take it five steps farther than what he had envisioned at first.

“I also got these black heels, and… I’m thinking of going commando.”

It was then that Steve puffed, chuckling once again, this time more eased. “Okay, you can stop it now, thank you.”

You laughed, letting go of his tie. That was the charm of your friendship with Steve: it was platonic, and he had a great sense of humor about those things.

“I’ll see you tonight, Y/N,” he waved goodbye to you.

You waved back, eyes accidentally locking with Javier’s as he crossed by you. You gathered your things, ready to leave at last, when you felt a silhouette behind you. Senses alert, you did not turn around. Instead, you delayed any further movement, curious as to what would happen. You knew it was Javier. You simply knew.

“Going commando tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, this time facing him wholly. He had that much too familiar cocky expression that you despised, the one which emanated pure Javier Peña energy. The cocky, smug and arrogant one.

“It was a joke, addressed strictly to Steve,” you said, eager to leave. “And even if I were to go commando, what’s it to you?”

His expression became obscure, like the kind he had whenever you and him were alone.

Greed and lust, both capital sins marching together.

“It’s a professional dinner, Peña. Get your head out of your ass.”

He replied with silence, which made you continue. “You know the rules. No one finds out about this.”

“I remember.”

“You still broke one of the rules.”

“Did I?”

“Not making it personal.”

“Oh, you mean when I called you _kitty?_ ”

He dared lean in and smile at you, and you had half of mind to slap him right then and there. There were still agents around, but it was the least of your concerns. Javier was pushing your buttons again, hard, knowing he would sure get a reaction out of you.

You leaned in, hand touching his arm, and whispered, “Don’t call me kitty. Or anything else other than my name, for that matter.”

You smiled sarcastically at him.

“See you tonight, Peña.”

Now, you weren’t sure if there was any other part of that conversation which Javier might have heard in his shameless waltz to you, but you were determined to leave him with a taste in his mouth that would burn his throat for days on end.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Eight o’clock rolled around and you were more than ready for the dinner.

You wore the same dress you jokingly teased Steve with: black, form-fitting and barely reaching your knees, assorted with black heels and silver jewelry, the finest makeup you could do, and, your absolute favorite, red lipstick. You were sure to make quite the appearance.

And you were had been right without fail.

The moment you walked into the restaurant, asking for reservations made under Messina’s name and strutted to the assigned table, jaws dropped. Even Colonel Wysession chuckled at you and complimented you alongside Steve and Horacio.

“Evening, gentlemen. Claudia.”

Messina smiled fondly at you as you took a seat. You noticed that there were little cards with names on them, assigning everyone to a seat, and yours so happened to be next to Javier’s.

 _Of fucking course it is,_ you huffed.

But _oh_ , his reaction was worth a billion dollars.

He stared at you, mouth ajar, eyes wide like a thirsty dog. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was blatantly staring in front of his superiors and his co-workers, but ultimately he didn’t give a single shit about it.

“You good?” you asked him.

He saw right through your fake innocence, but he was more focused on your lips. Red, full and so appetizing, he could not stop praising them in his mind, wishing he was far away with you so he can bite them and kiss them endlessly.

He fought off every instinct inside of him to not stare at you. It should’ve been easy. It was always easy to look at you and immediately get angry. But now it was suddenly a monstrous battle between his mind and his needs, with the latter inclined to win.

“I’ve just never seen you in a dress before,” he commented, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Careful, Peña, you might make us believe you actually like her,” Colonel Wysession teased him.

The men shared the laughter, and you jumped on the same train.

“This changes nothing,” Javier concluded, shifting his eyes away from you.

“Good. Don’t mess up the ambiance at the office,” Steve joked.

The never-ending discourse between you and Javier provided many of your colleagues with A quality entertainment for free, but none of them were actually concerned about your bickering. You always worked flawlessly together and brought the best in each other.

“Fuck, it’s like a thousand degrees in this place,” Javier complained, tugging at his blue tie.

“It feels fine for me,” Horacio said.

“For me too. You sure you good?” Steve checked on him.

“Yeah, spectacular.”

Javier knew what he said. It was hotter than hell in that restaurant. It did not matter what everyone else claimed to feel. His feelings were above anything else, selfishly and arrogantly so. And when he looked over at you, he knew for a fact he’d found the main source of the heat, the reason why his tie was practically strangling him.

“Although I will say that you two seem to be working much better together lately,” Messina added.

“I’ve noticed it too,” Horacio added. “These two may have found a solution to set aside their differences.”

“Bullshit!” Colonel Wysession exclaimed. “Do you not hear them every single day at the goddamn office? Fighting, fighting, fighting, all they do is fight!”

“We did find a solution.”

Javier was calm, almost to a ridiculous degree. He carelessly looked through the menu, discarding the looks everyone was giving him, and when he felt he had built enough suspense, he resumed the conversation with a casual smile on his face.

“Whenever we’re arguing, or about to, we take it elsewhere, privately, and we go at it.”

Your heart jumped in your throat at the phrasing. Was he that insane? Was he that vengeful, seeing through your exaggerated confidence that evening?

You gulped, refusing to look at him, and waited that he would explain himself within the next few seconds before either one of you had to give some serious explanations to the office.

“We really go at it,” Javier continued. “We tell each other our differing opinions, listen and at the end, find common ground, as calmly as we can. We are much calmer by the end. Don’t we, Y/L/N?”

“We sure are.”

You ordered a glass of wine, feeling your cheeks flushed. Your heart was racing like crazy, your mind fueled by the brazen statements Javier had just made, but alas, you once again decided to not give him the satisfaction of reacting in any way, be it positive or negative.

Everyone ordered their food and engaged in random conversations with one another. You were immersed into one with Horacio when your eyes shot at him, pupils dilated. He didn’t remark anything, thinking it was the effect of the story he was sharing with you, so you fought to display an amicable smile, when you were truly crumbling on the inside.

Javier’s calloused hand was resting on your left thigh, barely moving, only the index making circling motions on the surface of your skin. The touch of his fingertip on your bare skin was minimal contact, but sufficiently effective. You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to get lost into Horacio’s slight accent and his story, but it was damn near impossible. Javier felt you tense under his touch, and moved his hand upward, exposing more of your leg to his fingertips.

You felt your entire body cramp up and explode, so you bit the inside of your cheeks as you nodded much too enthusiastically at Horacio, giggling when he did to not give anything away. A moan, however, nearly escaped your lips as Javier’s thumb raced in between your legs, teasing the outline of your panties. Hands shaking, you excused yourself and ran outside for some fresh air.

Much to your annoyance, Javier made an appearance, hands in his pockets. He had that coy smile on his stupid face again, angering you without fail.

“What the fuck was that?!” you snapped at him.

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

You came closer to him, white, hot rage engulfing you totally.

“You’re breaking the rules, again,” you scolded him. “No one can fucking know! How hard it is to remember that, to stick to that?”

“In case you haven’t realized that yet, kitty cat, I don’t always tend to follow the rules.”

You not even an inch away from him, and you clenched your teeth with an unimaginable fury. “For the last fucking time. _Do not_ call me kitty. Do not call me anything but my name. And stop it.”

He only looked at you, having no intention or desire to contradict you. He had grown very fond of your flushed expression, your eyes shooting at him with hatred, the unbearable heat… all of it. It was the sweetest poison he had ever tasted.

“Did you hear me? Stop it.”

He almost stuck his forehead to yours, challenging every last nerve in your body as he cooed, “Say it like you mean it.”

Taken aback by his madness, you stared at him, slightly thrown off. “Stop. It.”

“Like you _mean_ it.”

You’ve lost any string which attached you to reality and was so damn close to cursing him out in both English and Spanish, reciting every insult you knew, but nothing came out. You sat there before him, vulnerable to his filthy advances and speechless, incapable of a serious rejection. Of course you did not want anyone at that table to be onto you, but –

 _But_.

You walked back inside, rushing to get away from Javier, desperately needing to focus on anything else. Right before you could have a seat, he came up behind you, simply looking at you with the same dark look he had on his face before every single time you had hooked up.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you exploded.

“Would you stop it?! Just – stop it already! Stop doing that! This is why we cannot work together!”

Messina, Wysession, Horacio and Steve all stared at the two of you, convinced you were having another work related argument. Neither had the slightest clue that your harsh, pained words came at the realization that you and Javier were, indeed, too much alike to ever function as more than fuck – enemies, really.

“We should take this somewhere else,” Javier muttered. “Excuse us.”

“At least they have the decency to fight in private,” Colonel Wysession commented, returning to his stake.

You rushed to the first empty room you could find, which so happened to be the closet. It was fairly spacious, but it still felt crushing around you. You were honestly hoping for a moment alone, but naturally, Javier knew nothing of the sort. That was his cue for something else.

“Calm down,” he told you.

You frowned at him, viciously and unforgivingly, and he realized you were actually pissed.

“Do not tell me to fucking calm down after that little stunt you just pulled,” you growled at him.

“Who really started this?”

“What – you did! When you decided to finger me in the fucking restaurant, under the fucking table!”

He placed a hand over your mouth, your lipstick now smudged over his fingers, creating the kind of disgraceful image that he never knew he enjoyed until then.

“Lower your fucking voice,” he told you. “And I did not finger you.”

“Bullshit technicality.”

He pulled you in by your waist, your body bonded with his once again, shivering with the kind of adrenaline and excitement only that hateful relationship provided you with.

“You may resent me and I may resent you, but we know each other in ways others don’t,” Javier muttered. “And I know you did not fucking mean it out there when you said to stop it.”

“You think way too high of yourself – “

“You did not mean it. I feel everything you do, Y/L/N, and that was not you pleading for me to stop.”

You remained silent. Son of a bitch was right. The percentage of truth in that ask was insanely slow, you knew that just as well as he did, apparently.

Driven to a point of mental breakdown and need, you searched for Javier’s mouth, smashing your lips against his, him permitting you easy access to his cavities. It was the kind of kiss you were already used to: messy, fast and rough, greedy even. Javier’s breaths were distorted into ones that were purely static as you crashed on top of him, and him on top of what felt like an upside down bucket, and straddled his thigh. The act was quick, basic, and so much needed.

He lifted your skirt above your hips, momentarily admiring the panties you were, and huffed ecstatically as you spread your legs and gave an experimental roll against his clothed leg.

Your mouth open, the pace you set is messy and fast, almost too desirable to overwork your nerves and your clit. There was little to no time, as ever, so you didn’t want to waste any precious second. You had your back against him, so you closed your eyes and your muscle memory worked to replay the touch Javier had over your leg, in between your legs, against your throbbing core, and you move faster, breaths ragged. With each lascivious drag of your pussy along his thigh, his leg began to warm up to your temperature, his own muscles twitching under you.

You gasped when you found the perfect angle for you to drag your wetness against him, and Javier felt himself growing harder by the second. With each roll of your hips he got more desperate, and without any thought left inside his mind, he quickly unzipped his pants and removed his shirt – knowing himself, things would get messier – his cock now fully erect and ran his fingers over it, as messily as you moved on him.

“That’s it – move faster – “he commanded you.

You succumbed, although there was no need for him to ask or impose anything. Your body was voluntarily craving that, and you gave into it. His moans behind you were nothing if awfully attractive, turning you on more.

“ _Fuuuuck_ – fuck, you feel so good – “

Javier pumped his cock fast and rough, perfectly aware of the time limit. The sight of you using him like that, making yourself cum just from moving against his leg was a blissful fantasy that got him going _good_. He kept fisting himself more and more, focused solely on the way you were grinding on him, almost jumping up and down, and he pictured you on atop of him again, with him inside of you, thrusting as harshly and as deeply as he can to hear you moan –

He cursed and he came hard, his seed spurting in drops all over his abdomen, his free hand reaching for the back of your neck and gripping it tightly. You, on the other hand, moaned brokenly and suddenly everything seized up, the pleasure centers in your brain and body lighting up at the same time, your pussy clenched around nothing but cloth, thighs shaking as you kept rolling your body, back arched beautifully at him. It felt like he had just punched you in the gut, and maybe he did, but fucking hell, the sensation had you in a forbidden ecstasy that dominated you every single damn time.

“God, I – how I fucking _despise_ you, Peña,” you muttered, eyes open wide.

You felt your arousal leaking from your center, dripping down your legs, and you barely got to stand up from his leg, looking around for something to clean yourself up with.

And by the looks of it, Javier could’ve used it too.

“I am not cleaning that up,” you tantalized him.

He chuckled.

“I fucking despise you too, Y/L/N.”

_You ruined me._


	5. Under you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After many weeks of private encounters, Javier needs your help with Steve, and that particular night out ends surprisingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: reverse cowgirl, choking, creampie, some dirty talk, blowjob, unprotected sex (wrap that thing up!!!)

That particular week had been _nasty_.

The closer you were getting to Escobar, the more hectic everything got. And that was reflected not only on the field, but in your personal life as well.

The medicine you and Javier had been turning to for the past four months was making its effect even faster than before. No foreplay, no game, no nothing, just to the point. You both were abiding to the established rules and were curing each other roughly and speedily, the overwhelming need for relief being the one constant on both your minds. You didn’t care about one another, only about hitting the right spots, touching the skin perfectly, curving the body to the rhythm of the other.

Tired of sneaking sex at the office, Javier rented a hotel room to make things at least more comfortable if nothing else. He already drank three glasses of whiskey by the time you arrived, and his intoxicated mouth was already on you from the second you walked in. You responded immediately, hands around his neck and drifting in an almost touch-starved way to remove his red shirt.

You had to admit, strictly to yourself, Javier’s kisses, though rough and fast like your entire physical arrangement, were astonishing. It was just something about them; whether the combination of whiskey and cigarettes on his breath or just the way he felt so hungry each time he approached you, the end effect was an endless turmoil.

When his hand grabbed the back of your neck in that already familiar constricting and dominating grip, almost pushing you down the bed, your body got flushed. He laid on the bed, squeezing your hips to signal you to move. You hadn’t even spoken to him, and neither did he. There were no words needed. You both were there for a strict purpose, ready to serve.

You sunk onto him, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls electrifying. You gave your hips a first roll, teasing as you were on top of him, and Javier’s hand reached from behind to grab your throat, his breath hot and tingly on your back.

“Don’t tease,” he ordered. “Move.”

 _All the more reason not to do that_ , you smirked to yourself and began to move in circles, sounds of his moans pleasuring you in ways only his fingers often managed to. Feeling the secure way his fingers were at your throat, you moved your hips slowly, moaning yourself. You knew Javier hated the teasing, and that was exactly what you were after. Pleasure at his own expense.

Throughout the months, you’ve developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to Javier. You could practically feel his reactions when he was in your close proximity, more so when he was inside of you. You felt his nervousness, his desire and greed, and you loved what you were doing to him. You loved annoying him. So you moved up and down on him, again slow, and Javier cursed this time, trying to push you down onto him faster, but regardless of his grip over the flesh of your hips, you didn’t give in.

“¿Por qué carajo estás siendo tan difícil, huh?” he grunted.

_Why the fuck are you being so difficult?_

“Porque me gusta.”

_Because I like it._

_Oh, yes, I fucking like it._

You smiled, eyes closed as you eventually surrendered to Javier’s harsh guidance over your hips. You bounced fast up and down him, moans increasing. The chokehold he had over you, the roughness, it was all conspiring against your body, edging it to the point where you could easily explode within seconds. The faster you moved and the rougher he got, the wetter you got.

“Fuck – “Javier groaned. “Fuck, yes – _yes, there_ – there you – fucking go – yes – “

You gained the astounding inability to say anything. Your body vibrated and shook under Javier’s spell. He moved his hips as well, just in slightest, to meet yours, absorbing every inch of you, every sound and every movement, the way you sunk onto his cock, the way your ass bounced on him.

“Good fucking girl, that’s it – take it – “

You could only groan in return as Javier thrusted his cock deeper up, you mouth completely ajar once he reached that sweet spot, making you shiver. You held onto nothing as you felt the heat in your body, your walls tightening around him.

“If you’re gonna cum, then fucking cum,” he said, breaths irregular and feverish.

“Fuck – “

“Moan for me, come on – “

You moaned as he held you in place and thrusted inside you as fast as he could, a deranged need consuming him, absolutely needing to hold you still and have you come undone all over him.

“ _Louder_ ,” he charged. “Louder till – people gather to listen – wishing they were you.”

He swallowed his words as he came with a guttural moan as well, thrusts messy and his cock twitching nervously inside of you as you stayed there, only arching your body on him.

“Fuck – yes – “you moaned, the ecstasy fogging up your mind.

Both his hands were resting on your hips, eyes devouring the image of you sinking onto his cock, his seed dripping from your entrance. He hesitantly pulled out, trying to catch his breath. A moan got stuck in his throat when he felt your mouth around his cock, eyes shooting back at you. Each flick of your tongue was more maddening than the last; Javier closed his eyes, fingers desperately grasping the sheets, on the verge of tears as you sucked him off, tasting both of you on his length. He couldn’t even think of anything to say or command to you. All that you did was masterful and so blindly pleasing that he could only writhe under your touch, feeling his orgasm rise inside of him once again.

“Fuck, I’m – Y/L/N – fucking shit – “

He came, hard and loud, unable to contain himself. No amount of self-control would’ve preserved his reactions, and he didn’t want to. He took what he wanted and he loved the dirty canvas that the two of you were painting with your bodies.

When he finally lifted his head, he saw remnants of his seed at your mouth, your thumb swiping it off and teasingly sucking on it, maintaining a deadly eye contact with him. Javier could’ve came from that alone.

“Vas a matarme un día,” he struggled to say.

“Sólo puedo intentarlo.”

He smiled, wiping it away the second he realized it. He wasn’t gonna pretend like he wasn’t having a good time because, _holy shit_ , he undoubtedly was. But he was not about to start liking things outside of that.

“I rented this room for the whole weekend,” he told you, already searching for his clothes. “Same time tomorrow?”

You struggled to walk properly to the bathroom and huffed. “Sure.”

Thank goodness your conversations in private were not long because it was not something you were good at, and you reckoned neither was Javier. Everything else outside work was unnecessary and uncalled for.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

When you got the call from Javier the next day to come to his apartment, an unexpected fear raged in your chest.

Why would he do that? It was late in the evening, almost close to the time you had agreed to meet back at the hotel, and instead he was calling you to his apartment. His private quarters. This not only violated the “not making it personal” rule, but it actually concerned you. What could’ve been so important that he needed you there?

Honestly, you could only hope there was no dead hooker in his bed because if that was the case, things were about to get _messy_ , and _not_ the kind you both got aroused by.

You knocked on his door, heart sunk completely in your stomach, and said nothing as he greeted you and welcomed you inside.

“This better be life or death and not about s – “

He put a hand over your mouth to put an end to your sentence and immediately you recognized the silhouette crashed on your couch. You frowned at Javier, thus demanding an explanation.

“He’s having a very bad day,” Javier explained. “He’s been drinking since noon and I think he just spiraled back into the ‘I miss Connie’ pit.”

“Oh, shit.”

You looked over at Steve: his eyes were locked somewhere in front of him and he was grunting relentlessly. He clearly looked a mess, and it was understandable. It had only been four months since the divorce and he had good days and bad days.

That was clearly a very bad day.

“Why did you call me?” you asked.

“I’ve been with him the entire day. He already killed my mood for… other things, so just – take him out, will you?”

You frowned again.

“You’re dumping him on me?”

“You’re a woman, you might have a better way at helping him.”

“Take him out? I – how the hell – on a date, or with a gun?”

“Not on a date. I – I don’t fucking know, either one at this point. He just needs to get out.”

Something in Javier’s mind triggered the realization that he responded way too fast to your question, way too viciously too, but he denied that. He just needed Steve out of his apartment and he wanted him to drown his sorrow elsewhere.

“Hey, Murphy,” you went over to him slowly, smiling. “Hey there, buddy. Remember me?”

Steve seemed to be looking through you, and groaned again.

“Oh, boy. Okay, time to go.”

You and Javier both lifted him from the couch, poor Steve wrapping an arm around you for balance.

“How about we get you something to eat?” you suggested.

He looked at you, this time with a little more life in his eyes, and nodded once. It was all the confirmation you needed, so you carefully walked out of Javier’s apartment and placed Steve in your car in the passenger seat.

You were relieved. Of course Javier wouldn’t call you to his apartment for other purposes. He didn’t need you.

And you sure as hell did not need him.

You drove downtown, stopping at the first restaurant you noticed, and ordered something to eat for both of you. Once the food was in front of Steve, he realized how starved he was, so he dug in.

“Slow down, Murphy, you don’t have to inhale your food.”

He nodded, forcing himself to chew and eat slower. You both ate in silence, and you fugitively looked at the clock. 9:42 p.m. By that time, Javier was surely either with one of his whores or handling himself if he really needed to, so you could have a breather. Every single day that week you and him have been going at it, and frankly, your legs needed a little break.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Steve seemed to be back to his usual perky self, at least when he was with you, and you smiled at him.

“Nothing. Feeling better?”

“Oh yes. Thanks, Y/N.”

“So what happened today?”

He fell silent, as if trying to reminisce everything he ever did. He shrugged and focused on his plate, avoiding your look.

“A bad day,” he responded.

“That much I could tell. I just meant… what triggered you? You were fine this week.”

“Hm. Honestly I don’t know. It’s the little things, you know?”

You didn’t. You never did. Your life had always been fast-paced and chaotic and you had no time for silly little gestures.

“I was just looking over in the apartment and I realized how fucking empty it was. And I started to miss her… and then I started to drink.”

You took a mental note to not say Connie’s name in front of him and only listened to him rant. You figured it was more than good and needed.

“But I know there’s nothing I can do anymore. She’s gone, she’s happy – “

“She’s not.”

“What?”

“I haven’t – I mean, I don’t know how she feels, personally, but… I also know that she can’t be happy. You were together for years, and it’s not easy for either one.”

“She’s the one who wanted the divorce.”

“I know. But just because she made that decision, it doesn’t mean it brings her joy. I can tell you, as a female representative, she cannot be happy. Not right now, at least. I’m willing to bet she has good and bad days too.”

“You really think so?”

You took his hand into yours, an honest smile residing now on your face.

“That kind of love dies hard, if ever. And you’re a really good catch, Steve.”

He smiled as well, feeling himself slowly sober up. He was still tipsy but he still fought with you on the matter of payment, which you did not allow him to do. You paid for everything and walked by his arm out of the restaurant.

“You’re a catch yourself, by the way,” Steve commended, dumbly and adorably smiling at you.

“Thanks.”

“Pardon my intrusive… thoughts and question, but how the hell are you still single? Are you? Still single?”

You chuckled softly, the smirk threatening to leave the corner of your mouth rather bitter than anything.

“I am. And it is by my choice.”

Steve frowned.

“I don’t wanna date. I’m not… the dating type.”

“ _What?!_ A fine thing like you?!”

“I know, hard to believe, but yes.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve never… not once been so madly in love with someone that you would’ve died for them?”

The question was a full knockout to your core. You gulped, painful memories from your pre-DEA life wild inside of you.

“I was. Once.”

“And?”

“It was more than enough. It’s not my thing.”

Still examining you with disbelief, Steve felt an inexplicable warmth. He moved closer to you, alcohol still an intruder in his rational system, and felt both daring and flustered at the same time.

“Y/N… could I – could I maybe – “

“Come on, Steve. With words.”

“Could I… kiss you?”

The question struck you. Was he still _that_ drunk? Was he in need of the same predicament that Javier was?

No, you eventually decided. This was a hurt, drunk man and, at the end of the day, a friend. A good man, and an even better friend.

You chuckled unexpectedly, removing a few locks of hair from your face.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked amusedly.

He shrugged. “I – I don’t know, I just… I think it would be nice to kiss you. You’re very, very pretty.”

You chuckled again.

“I mean you can say no… you should, maybe. I’m not ready to… date or some shit, but… God, you look pretty tonight…”

“Steve.”

“Hm?”

You looked at him, tiptoeing to reach him as your hands pulled him by his cheeks and you pressed a chaste, soft and slow kiss on his lips. It was surprising: warmer and nicer than you would’ve ever imagined, and new. You allowed him in, and so did he, and it felt more platonic rather than anything else.

You haven’t had a kiss like that in many years, and suddenly it broke you on the inside. You scrunched your nose, the unpleasant reminder of your former life almost asphyxiating you, and you broke the kiss, rushing to get back into you normal state of mind and trying to smile fondly at Steve, who seemed to be still in shock.

“I – didn’t – “

“Consider it a favor from a friend.”

You walked him to the car, struggling to keep at bay everything that was going on inside your mind, all of that havoc ruining you.

You wondered if Javier had ever kissed someone like that, slowly and longingly.

He probably hadn’t.

And if he did, you would certainly never know.


	6. Never enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier reaches a boiling point where he truly realizes that no one feels better than you, in every way. But it might be getting too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut (WARNINGS: rough doggy style, mentions of anal), angst (super jealous and angry Javi, just a lot of angst between you and Javi)

Steve sobered up by the next morning, and he approached your desk with his head lowered, seemingly flustered and ashamed.

“Good morning, sunshine!” you perked up upon seeing him.

Though your face dropped in a heartbeat once you’ve seen his facial expression, bringing nothing joyous to you.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, instantly concerned.

“Can we talk?”

You nodded, walking past his and Javier’s shared desk and retreated into a corner. Steve was holding onto the coffee cup in his hand as if it were a life vest, and you instantly figured it out.

Shame. Blame.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” he said.

“Seriously? I thought someone died. That was no big deal.”

“I – I just feel like I took advantage of you.”

Telephone on his ear and eyes wandering to the corner you and Steve were backed into, Javier’s mind began to spin and create its own scenarios and theories. He was not trying to be smooth about his staring, nor did he even care. He just had to know what was going on.

It was his idea, his doing, to get Steve out of his apartment. He asked for your help. You took Steve out at his request.

He felt angry again. Angry at himself more than anything because he just knew you weren’t dating co-workers and neither would you date Murphy, out of everyone available at the office.

“You didn’t take advantage at all,” you reassured him, placing your hand over his arm. “I promise you. It’s fine. It was just an innocent kiss.”

“I don’t know why I did that, I was… so drunk, and… I kept thinking about Connie and… I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be like that. It’s okay, I promise you.”

“Really?”

“Yes! No hard feelings. It was just a friend doing something nice for another friend in need.”

You smiled at him, Steve feeling relief over your comforting words and actions. All the while, Javier’s eyes haven’t left either one of you. He had mere curiosity, nothing else. You were free to do whatever you wanted, and so was he.

But there it was, that very same rage you always woke in him. And this time it was for all of the wrong reasons.

“I’ll tell you what,” he heard you tell Steve on your way back, “let’s grab a drink tonight. And this time’s on you.”

Steve chuckled and agreed immediately, returning to his desk and to his work. It took him a while before noticing Javier’s intense glare on him.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You and Y/L/N.”

“We’re grabbing a drink tonight. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Javier frowned. “I thought it’s just the two of you.”

“I mean… we haven’t said anything of the sort. It’s just drinking. Don’t sweat it.”

“Fine. Anything to get you to stop talking.”

“When you come tonight, do your best to not argue with her, okay?”

“I don’t plan on arguing at all.”

Javier’s eyes darkened and he quietly resumed his work. He already was incredibly tense; he did not need that night to spur him on any further. So, to prevent that from happening, he opted for the next best thing: Vanessa.

He wasted in no time in undressing her, burying himself into her as fast and as deep as he could, trying to get that same rush as he got with you, the same sounds, the same hotness. And she was as perky as usual, as bendy and willing as usual, but the passion was lacking. It was manual work, something his body had grown accustomed to do, and every move was mechanical.

“F-u-uck – J-Javi – _Javi!_ – ohhh _s-shit_ – “

The sounds were aiding in the slightest and the fact that he was hitting it from behind, the way she liked it the most, up her ass, yet it was not the same. It was absolutely not the same. He liked that, he surely liked that, but just… how much?

He pulled out unexpectedly, much to Vanessa’s disappointment.

“¿Qué fue eso?” _(What was that?)_

“Lo siento, cariño, no estoy de buen humor.” (I’m sorry, baby, I’m not in the right mood.)

“En serio, Javi, ¿qué te pasa?” _(Seriously, Javi, what is up with you?)_

Vanessa put her clothes back on and looked annoyed at Javier for a little while.

“¿Quién te tiene así de retorcido? ¿Tú, entre todas las personas?” _(Who’s got you so twisted? You, out of all people?)_

“Estoy perfectamente bien.” _(I am perfectly fine.)_

“Eres uno de mis clientes habituales, Javier, y eres el mejor. Y cada vez que nos reunimos en los últimos meses, ni una sola vez terminé. Siempre me hacías terminar. A veces he terminado sólo porque tú lo has hecho, porque te sientes así de bien. Pero ahora, es como… si no estuvieras aquí.”

_(You are one of my regular customers, Javier, and you are the best. And every time we’ve met in the last few months, not once did I finish. You always used to make me finish. Sometimes I came just because you did, because you feel that good. But now, it’s like… you’re not even here.)_

Javier took a long drag out of the freshly lit cigarette and rubbed his temples, trying to figure out what to say to Vanessa that would make sense. What could he say? That he had a new toy that he enjoyed the most because he was so annoyed by it? That regardless of how many other girls he slept with, none felt that good in spite of all the anger and resentment?

None of those things made sense.

Then how come they worked so well whenever you and Javier were getting down and dirty?

“Si estás cansado de mí, dilo.” _(If you’re tired of me, just say so.)_

Javier said nothing, avoiding any eye contact with her.

“O mejor aún, cuando realmente me quieras, llámame.” _(Or better yet, when you’ll actually want me, call me.)_

Vanessa stormed out, leaving Javier with a huge headache. It was nearly time to go meet Steve and you at the bar and frankly, he didn’t really feel like it. But at the very least he wouldn’t have to think about any other physical encounter for the day.

So he dressed up and headed to the bar, the desire of drinking already strong on his mind. It got further enhanced when he saw you and Steve already at the bar, smiling widely at each other and touching each other. For one thing, Javier was glad that Steve was feeling better. And he knew that whatever he might’ve thought about you, it was amicable.

But Javier felt angry again.

“Javi!” Steve exclaimed, briefly hugging him.

Javier responded to the hug and sat down next to him, paying no attention to you.

“Fuckin’ hell, I figure you could at least say something to Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is how we function.”

“Sure is.”

Javier ordered a whiskey, rubbing his temples again. His restlessness seemed to be following him everywhere, his thoughts chaotic and lacking the opportunity of proper organization.

“We’ve order a round of tequila shots, FYI,” Steve playfully hit him.

“Should you be drinking again?” Javier asked, facing the bar, but tone revealing genuine concern for his friend.

Although you reckoned it was more than that. He spoke gravely, stingy and harshly, like he did when he had a bad, bad day.

“I’m fine. It was a questionable night, yeah, but… thankful I didn’t mess anything up.”

“Mess what up?”

You raised your brows at Steve, face emptied of any expression as you hoped he picked up on the message. Luckily, he did, and he handed you and Javier the tequila shots. You chugged yours immediately and ordered another one under Javier’s investigative eyes.

“Whoa, easy there!” Steve exclaimed.

“I need this. Trust me.”

Javier drank his shot of tequila and continued with his whiskey, chugging it down as well. There was simply something constricting in the air that night, making him irritated by every single little thing. On top of everything, he couldn’t help but notice that neither you nor Steve had answered his question, which finally led him to believe that something did, in fact, happen last night.

“So how was your night?” Javier asked Steve, ordering another whiskey.

“We grabbed something to eat,” he said casually.

You were onto Javier like a lion stalking its prey. He was an outstanding detective and he knew what he was doing most of the time. And it would’ve seemed that time was no exception. Although you failed to understand why he was acting so uptight, you decided to let it slide and focus on your drinking.

“You dumped your friend on me and I did help him, unlike you, so,” you smiled sarcastically at him.

“I knew you’d treat him well, but I wasn’t really aware of how well you’d do.”

Javier’s voice was resentful, and you couldn’t stand it any longer. You smiled again at him, more insultingly than before, and could barely contain your nerves.

“Do share with the group, Peña.”

“Guys… _please_ _don’t_.”

“No, no, we’re not fighting. I just want to hear him say what he’s actually thinking about.”

Javier gritted his teeth, hanging onto a thread. He stared at you, suddenly dismissing Steve’s presence together, feeling his body burn alive.

“Go ahead, Peña. Say it. Let Steve hear it, too.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“You know what, it’s not important. It doesn’t matter. It absolutely does not matter.”

He finished the second whiskey, lighting up a cigarette. The unexpected recollection of his shared cigarette with you popped into his mind, making himself hate everything that he was doing, everything that he had gotten himself into. It was masochistic and wrong, terrible to use all of that fueled anger on anything.

But then why did no other woman felt that good? How come neither of his girls were good anymore? Why was that heat, that frustration the only thing he chased after?

“You wanna hear it so bad, Peña?” you instigated him even more.

He grunted, facing away from you, realizing that Steve was assisting to the whole show for free, disordered.

“What the fuck’s your problem, Javi, what’s going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s going on!”

“Your look like you’re constipated so I’m assuming something’s up.”

At last, Javier burst completely. “For the last fucking time, there’s nothing going on! I am perfectly fucking fine! I don’t give a shit what you did last night or where or how, okay?! You took care of him, like I asked you to, and he’s happy now, so that’s fucking great!”

You knew Javier’s anger better than anything and anyone, and that was not his usual behavior. It was out of his character, way out of line. You could only look at him, bewildered.

“What the hell is up with you?” you muttered, steps heavy as you approached him.

“Everything is fucking… spectacular, just as usual, okay?”

“Nothing happened last night, Javi. Is that – fucking hell, is that why you’re so pissed off?”

Javier didn’t respond. Instead, he rushed to finish his cigarette and order another whiskey at the bar.

“Javi, nothing happened!” Steve exclaimed, almost desperate to make himself heard. “I was drunk out of my mind, we grabbed a bite – and we – I mean, I – “

“We kissed.”

Quiet. The words stuck on Javier’s mind and he processed them as if through a wood chipper. He stared at you furiously, wondering if the only reason why you blurted that out loud was to make him even angrier. There was no another reason. You knew damn well he’d want to take his energy and frustration elsewhere, and, guilty as charged, so did he. He threw all of his prior resolutions out the window and decided that night he would go against all of the rules. He didn’t care anymore.

“This was a mistake,” he cooed, looking strictly at you.

“Clearly.”

“Javi, it was a silly thing, I – it was my fault. I asked her if I could and – “

“You _asked_ her for it?”

“Why are we even having this conversation? You hate each other, you make it known with every chance you’ve got.”

“I consented to it. It was my choice as much as it was his. And regardless of the circumstance, what’s the fuck is your problem? So what if we kissed?”

Naming that specific action was all of a sudden boiling Javier’s blood to the point where he doubted he could’ve spoken normally anymore.

“It’s none of your business,” you continued. “If I wanna go out with Murphy, I will go out with Murphy.”

“Good.”

“Uh – “

“I am not tied to anything or anyone, so I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“I hope you do.”

“Y/N, I didn’t – “

“And frankly… tonight it was supposed to be just me and Murphy. I didn’t want you here.”

Javier did something with his jaw, that once in a while reflex of his of cracking his jaw, moving it to the side in the slightest, only when he was so dumfounded that any other muscle in his body had outwardly disappeared.

“I’m glad I came, though,” he said. “I now know that I am not welcomed.”

“You’re not.”

“Guys, seriously – “

“This isn’t a fight, Murphy, grow up! It would be a fight if I would say that she’s the most fucking stubborn, annoying and terrible woman I have ever met!”

You locked eyes with him, convinced he had now taken it too far. He was losing control over his tongue and you began to fear soon he might lose control over his actions as well.

“A fight would be if I would respond saying that you’re a man whore with little to no self-control who fucks everything with tits for what I can only hope is a decent price.”

Javier chuckled, taking it a little too hard this time, and leaned in so that only you can hear him, whispering, “I didn’t have to pay you, did I?”

Downright appalled, you couldn’t help yourself. You slapped him across his face as hard as you could, right under Steve’s shocked eyes. He immediately jumped in between you two, holding onto Javier more, but there was no need. His face displayed an immense smile, a very sick and twisted part of him finding some odd comfort into that.

“What the fuck did you say to her?!” Steve shouted.

“You know what?” you surrendered. “ _Fuck you_ , Peña.”

You left the bar and called a cab, eager to get home nonetheless. You thought about what had happened, what you were feeling, all of it simultaneously, reaching the conclusion that you might have overreacted to his statement. But just how much, though? It was insulting and terrible either way. What was more terrible was the fact that right then and there, you craved your usual. You craved that hatred-fueled sex, rough and unforgiving just like you and him were, knowing fully well that it was your one true source of relief, your one way or feeling something that was not all that damaging to your otherwise sensible emotions. You were not looking for commitment. You _dreaded_ it. All that you could handle was that vile relationship, filled with shameful acts, sweat and a massively questionable desire in the middle.

By the time you got to your apartment, the craving evaporated. It left your nervous system as easy as it entered, and it left you with an unpleasant, nauseating taste in your mouth. You wondered how you even lasted all of those months doing such dirty things with Javier. Sure, when it actually came down to it, the sex itself was mind-blowing. And it was just about the sex, right? A way to relieve your stress and re-direct your anger – but the more you thought about it, really thought it through, the more you realized you weren’t actually re-directing anything elsewhere. You were just projecting that anger into an indecent way onto the same person who caused it.

It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t good. In fact, it more damage than good.

Just as you sat on the couch, the doorbell rang. Grunting, you got up to answer, hoping to whatever Gods that it was not Javier because you weren’t capable of handling him right now.

Thankfully it was just Steve.

“Are you okay?” he asked you, stepping in.

“Wonderful.”

You crashed on the couch, him following suit, and he chuckled at you, making you wonder what the hell could have possibly been so hilarious after what he had just witnessed.

“Sorry for throwing you under the bus back there,” you scoffed.

“No problem. I just didn’t realize you wanted to… I mean, you said you don’t date.”

“I don’t. But I thought if there was anyone to start off with – “

“Oh. Thank you.”

Steve seemed flattered, and that little moment made you chuckle as well. You figured he already knew you were not truly being serious, but a compliment was a compliment.

“You and Javi are somethin’ else, I swear.”

“That’s what happens when you force two people who hate each other to work together.”

“I don’t know about that.”

You shot him an upset glare, Steve feeling the immediate need to rectify himself. “It’s like this: you hate each other, you yell at each other, but you guys work together so well. When we’re out there, on the field, catching the bad guys, taking shots and making decisions… you might argue and you might bicker, but the way you collaborate is insane.”

“We have to out there, yes, but… anything else aside that is a fucking shit show.”

“I’ve never seen two people hating each other’s guts so much.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“The thing is, I doubt Javi really hates you.”

“I – what are you talking about? Of course he does! Every damn time I open my mouth to say something – “

“You’re exactly alike. Both stubborn, angry and grumpy all the fuckin’ time, hard workers… you’re like his shadow self.”

“And… what does that prove?”

“I think he works so hard to keep you at bay because you remind him of himself, of how the world sees him. And Javi, well… he hates himself.”

You said nothing as you rummaged the words. It made sense from a certain standpoint, but even so, it was exhausting to feel so strongly against someone all the time.

“So… by that logic, he’s… my shadow self.”

Steve nodded.

“And that would mean… I hate him because I… hate myself?”

“I don’t know if you do, I can’t speak for you. I just know how Javi functions.”

“I don’t hate myself. There are parts about myself that I am not okay with, that I try to shove down and ignore but… so does everyone else.”

“Then why do you hate him?”

“You said you know him and how he functions. Have you ever had a long conversation with him? The man is annoying as fuck!”

Steve laughed, glad to be able to see things from your point of view. “Can’t argue with that,” he said.

“I don’t know, I guess… maybe your theory is right. Maybe I do hate him so much because he’s just like me. We’re too much alike. This is why it doesn’t work with us.”

“But also, I think that… wherever there’s such heat, there’s usually something more.”

“ _Seriously?_ _That’s_ your takeaway? That we’re subconsciously – God, I can’t even say it.”

“I’m just saying it could be. I mean, Javi’s – “

“A man whore.”

“True, but based on the sounds from his place and his reputation – “

“Why do you know about that?”

Steve lowered his head and chuckled yet again. “The point is, he’s a super attractive guy. He’s… a chick magnet. Even the secretary by Wysession’s office has a crush on him.”

“I promise you, Steve, I am not interested in that. At all.”

“Okay, I was only talking. But then answer me this. Why did you tell him about the kiss?”

You were perplexed. For the first time that night – and for what seemed to be the first time in your friendship with Steve – he managed to leave you speechless.

“He was already suspecting something had happened so I thought I’d get it out of the way,” you replied as casually as possible.

But Steve was just as incredible as Javier was when it came to detective work, and you had forgotten that.

“It’s like you were rushing to tell him about it, to make him jealous or something. Which, based on his reaction, I’d say it worked pretty damn well.”

“Please! That is such bullshit.”

Even you didn’t believe yourself for how fake you sounded. That had been your intention all along from the moment you noticed how hard Javier was trying to pretend like he didn’t care. Your only wish was to trigger him and to make him so angry that he couldn’t wait to possess you right then and there. But as you started to follow your vicious plan, you realized it wasn’t what you needed. It was not what you wanted. More so because he seemed genuinely… jealous for a moment.

Like he cared.

And you couldn’t have that. That violated more than just your already established rules, it violated everything you were a firm believer in.

You could not let that happen.

“I don’t give a shit about Peña,” you conceded. “But I can’t – I can’t keep doing this. I can’t feel all this anger every single fucking day. I’m exhausted, Steve.”

He looked at you caringly and pitiful in a way and patted you on your back as you finally felt everything that’s been doing on over the last few months.

“I think it’s time for me to go.”


	7. I want it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you’ve made a decision that none of your co-workers are on board with, but especially Javier, and he takes it much more difficult than he lets show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:rough missionary, slight fingering, cockwarming (also jealous, pissed off, drunk and slightly messed up Javi because we all love him), mentions of injuries

“Wanna grab some dinner tonight, Murphy?”

Your question took Steve by surprise for some reason when you asked him the next day at the office, but he gladly accepted. He needed to get out of the house more other than for drinking and you being one of his good – and only friends – he decided it was just what he needed.

“I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Perfect. See you then, Murph.”

You smiled at him and touched his arm while you waltzed past his and Javier’s desk, disregarding the way he was staring at you. For the past week, you haven’t so much as looked at Javier nor indulged into any of your activities. You suddenly realized that your anger was simply that. _Anger_. You didn’t want it redirected anywhere for the first time in months. You just wanted to do your job.

You knocked on Messina’s office door and entered, sitting down slightly flustered, but still confident in your decision.

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I was surprised to see this kind of request coming from you,” Claudia said.

“I understand that.”

“At least you didn’t specify ‘effective immediately’ on here.”

“No, ma’am. I’m invested in our work and catching those drug cartels is my top priority.”

“And after that?”

You wavered. “I… would like to move back to the States.”

Claudia Messina, the intimidating, harsh boss suddenly leaned over the desk and stared at you with a softness in her eyes that took you aback.

“Permanently?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She huffed. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. I don’t want to sign this. I don’t wanna lose one of my best agents. And one of the most competent women in this damn office. We need more women like you.”

“As flattering as this is, I can’t stay. After we finish with those cartels, it’s time for me to go.”

“Is this about you and Peña?”

You swallowed, dreading the question. Again, it was no secret that your relationship with Javier was filled with anger and hatred, and out of everyone there, Claudia Messina was the one who truly could not know about what had happened between you and him. She was, after all, the one who enforced the rule of co-workers dating.

But you and Javier were _not_ dating.

Never were, and never will.

“Yes, ma’am,” you eventually replied, heart sunk in the pits of your stomach.

“I thought you found a way to make things work.”

“It worked for a while. But now it is pretty clear that no matter what we do, things will never change between us. We cannot work together anymore. There’s too much arguing and loathing and – I can’t do it anymore.”

“What changed?”

You had no clue how to respond.

What _did_ change?

It was just an office hookup. It was always just a hookup. And you were not as dumb as to think he would give up sex with his beloved girlfriends from the brothel. It was just some medicine you both took in times when you needed it the most to function at work.

But during your last argument with Javier, something went off inside of you. At first it felt like a massive eruption, but sooner it became like a pestering ticking, fast and painful, almost as if a bomb was about to go off and you were running out of time.

“I don’t know,” you responded, determined to maintain your usual blank face. “But it’s not working anymore, and I cannot function like this.”

Claudia examined you very closely, leaning over the desk further.

“Before you came here, Murphy and Peña were an unbeatable duo. They were working wonderfully together, almost unbeatable. They had some bickering going on, but it was not on your level.”

“You’re only proving my point, boss.”

Claudia huffed, chuckling at you. “Once you joined the team and were assigned with them… I have to tell you, I have never seen a more powerful duo on the line of work than you and Peña.”

You gulped.

“You yell at each other, you hate each other’s guts, but when it comes down to work, you’re… two peas in a pot.”

“Because we _have_ to work together. If we wouldn’t – “

“You and Peña are at each other’s throats all day every day and the fact that you’re so similar to each other would explain that, but in a way you… complete each other.”

You chuckled mockingly, avoiding her intense glare. There were many things you could’ve argued against, and that one right there was surely the top one. You never visualized Javier’s coarse exterior as a shield. You took it as it was, unwilling to scrape the surface and see what else you could find. Such curiosity never struck you. However, if the two of you truly mirrored each other in terms of personality, it meant he had his own inner demons to battle, his own scars he wished to hide and kindness brutally ripped apart from him over and over again until there was barely any piece left, concealing it somewhere that no one would ever find.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said coldly. “Once we take down Cali and Medellin… I want to return to the States.”

“Y/N, let me ask you this then. Do you really want to leave?”

Again a pause. Were you that transparent that Claudia dared to pose such questions? Was it too obvious just how torn you were, how exhausted you were?

“I have to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You exchanged a worrisome look with her and immediately rose from the chair, fixing your blazer on your way out.

“I love the team. 99% of it, that is. Murphy, Carrillo… they’re my friends and I love them. But I have to make the responsible choice, Claudia. The job comes first.”

She rose from the chair as well, sighing. “I’ll talk about it with Wysession and let you know by next week.”

“Thank you.”

You left, willing to pose as cold as usual, unaffected and focused on work. But the moment you crossed paths with Steve and Horacio, the façade went out the window. They looked curiously at you just stepping out of Claudia’s office and questioned nothing until you were in their vicinity.

“What was that about?” Horacio asked.

“What did Messina want with you?”

You remained silent for a while. The truth was, you didn’t plan to say a word about your call until it was made official, but there was probably going to be a huge buzz revolving around the potential absence of the sole female agent in the DEA anyway.

“That. Uh… well, I – I put in a request for a transfer.”

“A transf – “

“What?”

Steve and Horacio were both in genuine disbelief. Steve kept chuckling and scratching the back of his neck, staring perplexed at you as if that would somehow make things clearer.

“You’re not serious,” he muttered, a fearful smile on his lips. “You wanna leave?”

“Why would you want to leave?” Horacio asked as well.

“Not right now, not when we’re in the middle of this war against the cartels. The job comes first. But… hopefully soon.”

“I don’t get why you’d want to leave, you’re an amazing agent, you fit in perfectly – “

“And I’m a woman among men which means you get a free show.”

You smiled at them, noticing Steve’s flushed face and Horacio’s amused on. The latter shook his head politely, as he normally would, and smiled cordially.

“I’m a happily married man, Y/N,” he reassured you.

“Never met a man who doesn’t have a wandering eye.”

“Look, Y/N, you can’t just… leave, walk out like this, you’re – “

“You’re leaving?”

The voice turned all three heads to it. Your eyes stopped on Javier, who seemed, momentarily, in disbelief as well. His expression betrayed no sentiment of any sort, which you were rather thankful for. But you could’ve sworn for a painfully short second that he seemed shocked at the news.

“I’m hoping to,” you replied dryly. “Sometime soon.”

“Hm. Back to the States?”

“Yes.”

“Have a nice trip.”

“What the hell’s the matter with you?!” Steve shouted at him as he was about to leave. “You don’t even care that your colleague wants to transfer?”

“If she wants to go, she should go, it’s her choice.”

“Even if she’s leaving because of you, you asshole?”

“Murphy, let it go,” you told him.

“It’s just a job, isn’t it?” Javier shrugged.

“It’s just a job,” you confirmed.

_That’s what we said about the office hookup too._

_It was just at the office._

_Then it wasn’t._

_It’s just a job._

_Now it’s not._

Javier walked away, lighting a cigarette on his way, and you saw Steve’s clenched fists and frustration smeared over his facial features.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he muttered.

“What did you expect? We’ve despised each other from my first day here and things will never change.”

“Even so… he can’t deny the fact that you’re one of the best agents.”

“It’s true,” Horacio fortified. “You manage to get more out of interrogations and you work much faster.”

You smiled, bitterly so, before replying to both. “Because nobody who works for Escobar or the Rodriguez brothers expects a woman to interrogate them, let alone catch them. They always assume I’m a prostitute because that seems to be the only acceptable profession for a woman. But I get to use that to my advantage when I ask them questions.”

“It’s not easy at all, I imagine.”

“It’s not. But sometimes it’s worth it. See you later, Murph.”

»»————- ♡ ————-««

“So… just so we’re clear, this is not a date, right?”

Roughly an hour into the dinner, Steve finally addressed the question that had been lingering on his mind ever since you asked him out. He knew better than to draw assumptions, especially after you had openly admitted that dating was not something you enjoyed, but nonetheless, he felt like he needed to know with certainty.

You chuckled whilst taking another sip of red wine and looked over at him, a strange tension in your gut. “Do you want it to be a date?”

He mimicked your giggle, more nervous than before, and avoided your look.

“I – don’t get me wrong, I think you’re hella gorgeous, and… that kiss was… wow. I just… I don’t think I’m ready to go out yet, and… you said you hate dating, so…”

“Then you’ve answered your own question.”

Steve was probably the one person at that office you would’ve happily gotten with and give it a try, but you were complete opposites. While you may have had some things in common, Steve was on the more optimistic and nice side, while you skipped roped with the line between nice and cynical, pessimistic and cruel. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him any further after the whole Connie fiasco and during his recovery from it.

“You deserve better than this, anyway,” you told him.

“Better than a hot shot agent who kicks anyone’s ass, is intelligent and funny? Do you hear yourself?”

You laughed momentarily, but returned with your feet down to earth.

“Yes. And I stand by what I said. You will find someone else someday, if that’s what you want. Someone bright and caring and funny, with minimal baggage, and that someone will love you unconditionally. I just know it.”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

Steve paused, looking uncertain of his own upcoming question. It was not difficult to phrase, not in the slightest, but something told him he should be careful with how he got it out.

“You said you were madly in love with someone once. And I take it that things didn’t end well, since you’ve sworn off dating for good.”

You smiled at him, though that was no the reaction you had intended to exhibit, and listened closely.

“Did something… bad happen?”

You held your breath for a seemingly never-ending second, and your smile only got wider as your body grew colder, mind and heart crushed under the weight of the memories.

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

_“Oh.”_

“I haven’t had a date since I was 23. And… I like it.”

“Twenty – okay. No shaming here, but… look at yourself, damn!”

You laughed harder, blushing a little.

“I’ll flatter myself by saying that I did get asked out plenty in the last eleven years, but I’m really fine this way.”

“What happened to the last person you dated?”

_That was it. The big question._

“It’s a long story. It didn’t end well.”

Steve understood that you didn’t really want to dig into that topic, so he stirred the conversation elsewhere, for which you were grateful. You indulged into the food and the wine and tried to put anything else aside.

By the time the check came, Steve chugged down one glass of wine extra and you decided to walk him home. He giggled and thanked you all the way to the apartment block he was living in, and you decently stepped into his own apartment, just to make sure he drank some water and crashed on the couch at least.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you kissed him on the cheek.

“Nighty night, Y/N.”

You gently closed the door, leaning against it for a bit, exhaling the stress away. It had been a lovely evening, but just the shy entry into the topic of your former life shook you and you had to pull yourself back together.

“Had a fun date?”

Your ears registered the coarse voice in an instant, and your eyes followed the sound to the very source. A very ruffled and apparently drunk Javier.

“Can you not? I’m really not in the mood for your critique or your asshole lines tonight.”

“So not a fun date?”

And suddenly, you felt that white, hot rage burst through your skin, seemingly spewing all over the floor. You approached him, steps as heavy and as furious as you were.

“Can you just… pretend, for one minute, for just… one fucking minute… that you don’t hate me? One minute of… anything else but that.”

Javier looked at you with a pair of big, soft eyes, a gaze you haven’t had the chance of seeing before – given how your usual encounters were either professional or dirty by default – and he seemed shaken by something. Somehow down in the dumps.

“Are you drunk?”

He shrugged, then nodded briefly. “These are trying names, Y/N.”

It was your turn to stare at him, bewildered.

“That’s the first name you used my name,” you said.

He shrugged again, opening the door to his apartment and inviting you in. You remained in the hallway, heart experiencing high trepidations in your chest.

“No making it personal,” you reminded him.

“That was when we were sleepin’ together. Not the case anymore, it seems.”

A little bit of his Texan accent slipped in and it charmed you for a short moment. Gulping, you followed him inside, not taking any seat. You looked around, admiring the cleanliness of the place. For someone who was on edge every single day, he sure kept things tidy.

“Drink?” he offered.

“I’m good.”

You watched him pour himself a whiskey neat, and simply watched from afar. There were many undiscovered layers of Javier Peña, many mysteries regarding his entire persona, but there was also something enticing about him. He was that thing that you know is bad for you, but you cannot stop thinking about it or wanting it because it feels so damn good.

_He was a goddamn drug._

“I hear you’re leavin’.”

“I hope so.”

He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes weren’t even fixed on something definitive; it seemed he was blankly staring ahead, right through the furniture and the floor, body unable to encompass all of the thoughts that he carried deep within.

“And you’re leavin’… because of me.”

“What do you expect, Javier? It was a pleasurable arrangement we had going on for a while, but I am… exhausted. I am sick and tired and exhausted of hating you with every fiber of my being, every single day, every hour and every minute. I can’t even… look at you without feeling so… angry.”

You nearly choked on the words, inexplicable emotions rushing through you as you tried to explain yourself and to reason with him. In return, Javier stared at you, perplexed. You would’ve liked to think that it was not all bad, but it was never anything else.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name,” he remarked, and you chuckled against your will, quickly dismissing it.

“And this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had without fighting. Maybe Steve was right.”

“About what?”

“About us.”

Javier knocked back the glass of whiskey and stood up, slightly inclined to the left as he moved closer to you, making you realize how drunk he really was compared to you, who was only buzzed.

“He has this theory that the reason why you hate me is because I remind you of yourself. And you… hate yourself.”

“I do.”

His answer was unexpected; the bluntness of it, the raw honesty behind it, it baffled you entirely. “I do hate myself,” he continued. “And I see how it looks from the outside, with you. The anger issues, the fear, the stubbornness… it eats me alive. And I am guessing it does the same thing to you, too.”

You wanted to say no, to claim that he was insane, but you couldn’t.

“We’ve all got out demons to battle, don’t we?”

“We sure do.”

“Wow. We’re agreeing on something. Thank goodness for your level of drunkenness right now.”

There it was once again. That poisonous stare of Javier’s, the one which told you he was up to no good, the one which informed you through its simplicity and danger level that he needed something more.

But you knew that was all he could offer. And that was all you could offer.

“I’m gonna go,” you announced. “You’re probably expecting company. And three’s a crowd.”

Javier opened his mouth to protest, but you caught him off guard. “And before you think of saying something smart, three’s a crowd even in a threesome.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

 _It came out so fucking wrong_ , Javier thought. In his mind, he meant it completely different, and he could only hope that you knew better.

“Not Vanessa, not Freckles, not Lily… none of them. None of them feel good.”

“What? Those are your favorites, aren’t they?”

“They were. But they’re not – it’s not the same.”

“You better not finish that sentence.”

_But of course he had to._

“It’s not the same as with you.”

Your anger returned, and your first instinct was to storm out of the apartment, but instead you began to pace nervously through the living room, anxious and panicked.

“You’re paying them to have sex with you!” you yelled. “They will do whatever you tell them to do!”

“You don’t think I did that? You don’t think I told them what to say, how to say it, how to act? It’s fuckin’ staged, it’s a fuckin’ act! It’s not the real anger, the real passion and – it has none of it.”

“They’re too eager to spread their legs for you and get your money, of course it lacks – “

Javier felt just as angry all of a sudden, moving in so close to you that his warm, whiskey-infused breath was on your face.

“Don’t you see it?? Don’t you fucking see it??”

“See _what??_ What else could you possibly want from me, Javier?? You got to fuck me, what else is there for you to take??”

“We do this to each other on purpose! Every hurtful word, every disagreement and every single moment where we make each other angry and annoyed and frustrated with each other, it’s all on purpose! We seek each other to hurt each other because it’s the one fucking thing we allow ourselves to feel! We – we need the anger because – because otherwise it’s – “

“What?!”

“Otherwise it’s nothing but pain and misery and loneliness. And I – I come looking for you, for the fucking thrill you bring to me. You… control me, entirely. Everything that I do is controlled by you. Everything. You’re the one thing that makes me feel something. And I… hate you for that.”

You could only throw him a very intent look, stunned and contemptuous at the same time. He disarmed you completely, and you were at a loss for words. All you could feel was his breath and his eyes on you, his fingers barely touching yours.

“Tough luck then,” you eventually said. “There’s nothing left for me to give to you. You took it all. Just like – “

You stopped yourself, memories flooding back in your mind, cutting deep. But Javier was no fool. Even in his fogged state of mind, he could tell you had something greater on your mind.

“You feel differently,” he told you. “And not just…”

He looked into your eyes, as if for the first time ever, and felt no anger, no frustration. He only felt you, and the crushing desire to be with you again.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” you whispered, fully aware again of his drunken state of mind. “What else could you possibly want from me?”

“I want you.”

The request was basic, perfectly understandable. He’s had you before, he can have you again.

But something in his voice seemed to crack as he let it out.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but instead, Javier’s lips pressed up against yours. It was an entirely different kiss than ever before; granted, you haven’t really taken the time to kiss before, it was all rushed, but this time it was as if he truly took the time, for the first time ever, to feel your lips, the sweetness of your mouth. The kiss deepened, thus sparking again that familiar burn and neediness that always appeared to be residing in between you two.

Soon enough, you found yourself trapped under Javier’s body, his hips grinding against yours, mouth pressed against your neck, biting and taunting your skin up to a boiling point. You refused to beg or ask him for anything, even then, but judging by his moves, he grew just as impatient.

“Spread your legs for me,” he cooed.

His voice was confident, his hand secure on your hip while the other inserted a finger in you, testing the water seemingly, but you were not in the mood for any foreplay. You somehow thought that prolonging that moment would only make it worse, and not only because of what you wanted from him.

It was what you wanted _with_ him that made it so much worse.

“Want my mouth on you?”

Before you could reply to him, he teasingly buried his face in between your legs, giving your slit an experimental lick. Upon hearing you moan, he smiled, and you swore you felt that, too. Everything Javier did, you felt it deep in your bones.

You didn’t answer him at all. You barely allowed yourself to squirm or do anything, forbidding your hands to tug his hair, to guide his face further in your pussy. But it seemed Javier was also not in the mood for foreplay. He probably wasn’t capable of much tantalizing anyway, given that he’d had a significant amount of alcohol to drink, so he unzipped his jeans, guiding his cock to your entrance, eyes glued on yours.

The sudden realization that he never fucked you like that, from the front, all beautifully laid out to him, struck him deeply. He grunted as he entered you, slowly at first, and not making any movement just yet. He could’ve came just from that, the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his cock, him filling you up in ways that he hoped no one else did.

“Move,” you demanded.

His eyes detected a medium-sized scar in between your breasts, above the sternum, and he frowned.

“What’s that?”

“I was stabbed.”

Javier examined you shockingly, the alcohol making his reaction more theatrical, you thought, sighing.

“I didn’t know,” he muttered softly. “I didn’t see it before…”

“Because you never looked at me.”

Your words were not accusing, but, thinking back, Javier knew it to be true. He never took the time to see you, more because of his concerns and fears. He imagined someone cruelly sticking a sharp object in your chest, hoping to end your life, and the thought savaged him completely. Involuntarily, he began to move, your moans a mesmerizing song to his ears. He pushed deep inside of you, a hopeless need to bury himself in you as much as he could overcoming him.

“Did Murphy ever make you feel this way?” he asked.

“We never – _oh_ – we didn’t do anything.”

“No? Did you want him to?”

“No – “

His pace increased, thrusts deep and fast, and Javier smiled in a drunken bliss. _God_ , nobody felt like that wrapped around his cock. Nobody felt as hot and as cozy as you, in spite of all the hateful words and disagreements the two of you shared over the course of a year. Javier leaned in, his face in between your breasts, gently kissing your scar, and you threw your head backwards, a mysterious feeling of relief surrounding you.

Javier moved faster, his neediness growing just as much as yours. Between cuss words and moans, his mind was drunk not only on whiskey, but on his favorite poison of choice, namely _you_. He felt his orgasm hit him like an axe in his head, and, mouth agape at your chest, seeking the comfort of your skin, he came, thrusts a little messier than before, but nonetheless still going on. He simply couldn’t stop. There was nothing he enjoyed more than that, and none of the brothel girls could ever measure up to you.

He realized, as he thrust inside of you, wanting and needing you to cum along with him, that it was no longer just an office hookup. You broke the rule. You’ve made it personal one too many times, and there were no takebacks.

You felt that much needed burn in your stomach. Along with it, something else came. Sharp pain in your pelvis, and suddenly you didn’t reckon it was pleasure anymore.

“STOP!”

Your scream terrified Javier and he stopped instantly, feeling sober again as he pulled out of you. He watched your flushed face turn white, your body convulsing under him and he looked scared at you, trying to make something out of the situation.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

He panicked immediately when he saw your eyes teary and your forehead sweaty, acknowledging that you were by no means on cloud nine.

“It – it hurts,” you muttered.

In agony, Javier got both of you dressed, taking you in his arms and driving you to the hospital. He faced death almost every single day, but that moment made him terrified in ways no bullet ever could.


	8. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier feels incredibly guilty over what happened to you, but when your birthday comes up, he finds that his feelings aren’t those of anger and frustration anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: cunnilingus, missionary, cockwarming (honestly it’s a surprisingly soft and tense night for both Javi x reader)

While Javier was more than relieved to see you well and back at work, within the following days, he hardly spoke to you.

The night he rushed you to the hospital, barely sober, was the longest, most emotionally exhausting one he ever lived through. It was fueled with an angst that was simply nightmare induced. No other explanation for it. 

Luckily, your injury was not severe and you only had to take it easy for a couple of weeks, but he still couldn't face you. He felt incredibly guilty over what had happened. He knew it was all his fault, and nothing could convince him of the contrary, not even you.

He never lost himself in the moment like that.

It seemed stupid to think about it that way, but it was factual, undeniable. In the drunken haze, he lost himself inside of you, in the feeling of your warm skin pressed against him, your moans, your lips, your touch... it was an ethereal experience, the kind of high that he was never able to reach with anyone.

And Javier realized that things were way past the casual office hookup. Why else would he reach out to you every time, without fail? Why would he involuntarily put you up on that high pedestal and compare the other women with you? Why couldn't he shake you off?

Physical relief turned into a serious craving, and he knew he was screwed.

"What happened to you?"

Horacio looked concerned at you and your limp, so you smiled reassuringly. "Took a wrong step on the stairs. It's not as bad as it looks."

"Ouch. Can't imagine it's pleasant either way."

 _It was for a while,_ you thought.

Your eyes locked with Javier’s across the room, and his guilt-filled eyes seemed pleading for something. You limped over to him and he ceased the eye contact. You leaned into him so that he was the sole person who can hear you say, “Stop staring at me like I’m some wounded bird.”

He tugged at his tie and looked around nervously.

“But you are! I – I’m the one who hurt you.”

You frowned, almost bursting into laughter, but you did not mean to come across as rude, especially not in the open space with the rest of the agents.

“Why are you so concerned about this? Isn’t a sex injury like the highest compliment for a man? As in, ‘I fucked her till she couldn’t walk’.”

“No.”

Javier’s frown and genuine disgust on his face confused you terribly. You dragged him by his arm into the filing room, shutting the door behind you.

“Okay, what is the deal with you? Right about now, you would’ve already humped my brains out in this room.”

“Don’t think this didn’t cross my mind.”

You smirked at him, huffing with a slight relief at the knowledge that the real Javier Peña was still existing.

“I – look, in theory, yeah, saying shit like ‘I fucked her till she couldn’t walk for a few days’ sound great and it’s a good ego boost, but when it comes down to the real deal… I – “

He froze, the look on his face exuding sheer guilt and blame.

“When you screamed in pain, I – I just – it was terrifying.”

“Oh, come on. You never accidentally lost yourself in the moment because the sex was so mind-blowing that – “

“No.”

You frowned, this time chuckling. It just did not seem feasible to you.

“Get outta here. You never made a sex injury to someone, or had one?”

Javier shook his head, that very same expression still residing on his face.

“I’m really sorry I hurt you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it – it happened.”

“I never… lost control like that. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“I didn’t assume your goal was to crack my bones or something.”

You were amused by the situation, but Javier was clearly not. It was a premiere for you to see him so vulnerable and affected by something that wasn’t even that serious. The stillness that lingered in between the two of you was cruel to a certain extent, but comfortable. There was nothing jagged about it, nothing needed to be rushed. Javier felt like it was the first time ever that he was seeing you, truly seeing you, and at some point, you took a deep breath and stepped away from him.

“The bottom line is, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a little smile. “And now we can go back to the usual shenanigans.”

“Good. We wouldn’t want anything else.”

“Of course not.”

Javier looked at you, trying to make something of the way he was now feeling. It was more than bizarre, more than just a misunderstanding. He felt no anger when he looked at you. It was mind-blowing just how fast that singular emotion had changed. And for what felt like the longest time, that anger was the one emotion that held him in one piece, the one thing making his day. And now, all he was left with was a warm, unknown feeling which seemed to be drawing him closer to you in ways he wouldn’t have allowed himself to, ever.

And he wasn’t sure that he could do it again.

In an unlikely mutual understanding, you both casually left the filing room, eyes avoiding each other as you intersected with Claudia, who smiled widely at you.

“I suppose we’ll be meeting tomorrow night for a birthday dinner?” she asked you.

“Tomorrow’s your birthday?” Steve exclaimed, visibly excited.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How come you didn’t tell us?”

“Because I don’t like to celebrate it. To me it’s a painful reminder.”

“That you’re… getting older?”

You threw Steve a deadly, yet amused look. “No. It’s somethin’ else.”

“So… no dinner, I take it?” Claudia checked.

“I really appreciate it a lot, but I just… I’d rather watch some TV and call it a night.”

“How about we got for some drinks on Saturday then? Just a casual night out.”

“That’s fine. Thank you for understanding.”

When Claudia and Steve returned to their respective business, Javier finally spoke up, his body in dangerous proximity to yours.

“Your birthday’s tomorrow?”

You huffed, displeased. “I’d lie and say that I don’t have one, but my birth certificate proves otherwise.”

“And you don’t celebrate it?”

“Much like dating, it’s not my thing.”

“What about gifts?”

“Hard pass.”

For some reason, Javier found it amusing and endearing, another set of feelings which have been inexistent since then. He chuckled.

“You realize Murphy’s definitely gonna buy you a gift, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled as well.

It was curious where or how that rage had vanished, but you felt it too. You were calm, smiling at Javier as he stood before you. The silence in between you two was comfortable, allowing your thoughts to fall in place at last, connecting the dots.

_It was not just an office hookup._

“Since you don’t celebrate your birthday and you hate gifts, how about we meet tomorrow night?” Javier proposed.

You raised your brows.

“Not for – I mean, you still have to recover – “

“You still don’t think a sex injury is a great boost for your ego?”

“Stop that.”

You chuckled again, shaking your head to force it away.

“Just – tomorrow night, eight o’clock,” he decided.

 _There’s that tough Javier I know and loathe_ , you thought.

_Yes, I… loathe him. Completely._

“Okay, fine,” you conceded.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Everything Javier had told you to do the following night, you did. Skeptically so, but you did. The man might have been obnoxious, but you trusted him.

He sent a car to pick you up and drove you to Marriott Hotel, the driver helping you out of the car and guiding you into the lobby.

“Buenas noches. ¿Estoy interesado en una reserva hecha a nombre de Javier Peña?”

_Good evening. I'm interested in a reservation made under the name Javier Peña._

_Can't believe I'm saying this tonight, of all nights._

The woman checked the computer and gave you the key and the room number immediately. “Gracias,” you said and went straight to the designated room.

You became anxious on the way there. Meeting at a hotel had become a regular thing for you and Javier, as you seemed to be throwing your well-established rules out the window, but honestly you weren’t up for another rough and sweaty session of sex. It had nothing to do with him or his trust in him, which was unbroken still, but you figured it might have been better if you kept your physical distance from him.

Which is why you should’ve not agreed to meet with him at once of the nicest hotels in Medellin. You knew much better than that. He was supposed to know better than that.

But in the end, did either one of you really did?

Javier told you he never lost himself in the moment like that. If you would’ve been the sappy kind, you would’ve thought of it as the highest form of flattery. In his drunkenness, Javier wanted to feel you so badly that he forgot himself. He had forgone his self-control only with you.

 _I want you_ , he said.

And he had you, like many times before, so what was the issue? How did you manage to handle the roughness before without any concerns and now both of you seemed fragile and insecure?

You’d never seen Javier to genuinely broken over anything before. And you weren’t even hurt badly. But whenever he looked at you, his eyes softened, emanating a warm energy that, for some reason, just drew you in.

As you entered the room, you dropped the keys in astonishment.

It was a huge room, filled with candles and, in a corner, a tray with two glasses, wine and strawberries, adjacent to Javier.

“What the… fuck is this?”

You could barely get those words out as it was. The scenery shocked you to the core and confused you immensely. Your eyes shot right at Javier, who said and did nothing. He carefully examined you, waiting for your next reaction.

“What the fuck is this, Peña?”

“A birthday setup.”

The casualty in his tone, the lack of expressivity, it all made it all the more infuriating to you.

“I told you I don’t celebrate – “

“It’s not a celebration.”

“Then what is this?!”

Javier rose from the chair and approached you.

“I thought for once, for another hot minute, we can pretend we don’t… hate each other,” he shrugged.

You only stared at him in return, unable to process the whole thing. It scared you, it sent you back to an unstable place that you swore you would never return to.

“Why would you do this? This is not you, this is not the Javier Peña that I – hate.”

You hesitated, for a split second, and you were sure he noticed it, too. But he said nothing.

“You didn’t hear me that night, when I – hurt you,” he said, his face closer to yours.

“What?”

He tugged at your sleeves, barely touching, but still managing to send shivers down your spine.

“You didn’t hear me.”

And it hit you.

“You said you… want me. And you had me. Like you did many times before, like you’ve had other women before. I heard you.”

“No, you didn’t. I didn’t say I _want_ you. I said I want… _you_.”

His hand on your waist, pulling you in closer to him, sent you into a fever. Your mouth remained agape, breathing him in and unable to focus.

“I think we’re both mature enough to admit that… something’s different,” you whispered, trying your hardest to not smash your lips against his.

“Yes.”

“I don’t feel angry anymore. I – I think this whole… let’s pretend we don’t hate each other is… it’s nice.”

Both of Javier’s hands were now on your waist, achingly slow moving down to your ass, setting your entire body afire.

“It is nice,” he admitted, in a trance as he stared at your lips.

“I still don’t get why you would do this. It’s such a… anti you move. Anti me.”

“You’re not so bad. I thought you might enjoy something different. Different doesn’t always equal bad.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Javier gulped, suddenly remembering you were hurt, and pulled back, sighing.

“Anyway, this, this whole thing, it doesn’t mean I was expecting… I didn’t plan this just for sex. I – I wanted to do something nice.”

“I’m shocked you know how to do nice things.”

Javier chuckled, lowering his head.

“I’ll go if you want to be alone.”

“You planned such a thing, in a hotel room, on my birthday, and you think I want to be alone?”

“That’s what you’ve been claiming for over a year.”

“You’ve been saying the same thing and yet… you’re here.”

This time you approached him, tugging at his tie. You craved for more, more of him, more of that, for a much too short moment, but it was a different yearning.

“Can we have another moment where we act like I don’t hate you, and you don’t hate me?”

“Is that what you want?”

You nodded, having fallen into another trance. Your skin tingled at his every touch.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want _you_.”

Javier tilted his head, as if inspecting you, and kneeled in front of you, watching you take a seat on the edge of the bed. You watched his every move: he removed your pants, quickly examining your left hip, slightly bruised. You gasped as he leaned in to kiss it, his lips feeling like plush against your skin, his grip firm and yet gentle over your thigh.

Your fingers intertwined in his hair, needing him elsewhere.

“Tell me where you want me,” he muttered, his brown eyes looking up at you.

You were breathing so fast, somehow you felt like you weren’t breathing at all. You spread your legs further, allowing him access, but he didn’t move. He still stared at you, waiting.

“Down there,” you muttered. _“Please.”_

You never begged or asked him for anything. Whenever you felt like you wanted to, you bit your lips on your tongue till you tasted blood on your tongue rather than let him hear you beg for him. But now you felt powerless, almost eager to succumb to those wishes.

Javier granted your promise, his head dipping in between your legs. Your fingers still tugging at his hair locks, enticing him with each trace of your fingertips over his scalp, Javier’s fingers removed your panties at last. You moaned when he put his lips against yours, his tongue against your wet folds, teasing up and down your slit, going slow and steady.

You moved your hips upwards, eager to meet with his mouth, but Javier kept your thighs in place.

“You still have to take it slow for a few days,” he reminded you.

 _Fuck_.

It was actually one time that you missed and needed those rough fucking sessions with him. He felt how squirmy and impatient you were, so he resumed his treatment over your clit.

“Come on, cariño, sit still for me.”

“F-Fuck – oh, yes – “

Javier’s mouth worked hard against your wet pussy, the sensations vibrating through you, shaking you from within. You weren’t expecting to cum so fast, but when you did, you squirmed and vibrated under Javier’s mouth, hastily rubbing yourself on him, riding out your orgasm.

“Ahí tienes – ahí tienes, cariño.”

_There you go, baby._

_Like it was the easiest thing in the world._

You stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape, a perfect juxtaposition with his facial expression, a painting of admiration and praise.

“What do you want now?” he asked you, unbuckling his pants.

You watched hungrily, waiting for the moment his cock would spill out of his boxers, filling you up in ways no one else did.

“You. In me.”

Javier gladly complied, climbing onto the bed and removing the rest of your clothes. His eyes stopped again on the scar in between your breasts, making you feel a bit insecure. But not a moment too late, all you could feel was the ecstasy his soft lips brought to you as they pressed down on said scar, praising it and claiming it as a badge of honor and strength.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you are?” he muttered, kissing upwards on your collarbones and neck.

You gasped, your hands at either sides of his face, head back and eyes closed.

“No,” you whispered. “You hate me, remember?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

You felt the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance and honestly all you wanted to do was clench around him, wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, feel him as deep and as close as you possibly could.

Ultimately you did wrap your legs around him, feeling his biceps tense above you, imagining he struggled hard to preserve his self-control.

“Javier – “

“¿Qué es? ¿Te duele?”

_Are you in pain? Does it hurt?_

_If it does, it would kill me._

“No. Necesito que te muevas. Por favor.”

_I need you. To move. Just to move. Please._

Twice you had begged for him that evening, and twice he gave in to you. He slipped inside of you, nose scrunched at the feeling of your walls tightened around him. He grunted, giving an experimental thrust, to which you responded with a soft moan, wanting to move your body to meet his.

“Tienes que tomártelo con calma,” he reminded you yet again.

_You have to take it slow._

God, you really wanted him to hump your brains out again.

He kissed you, deeply and intimately, as his hips met yours in a deep motion, reaching in to reach your sweet spot. Each thrust earned him an additional moan from you, and you had to acknowledge that it was unlike anything you’ve felt in the longest time. There was something utterly mesmerizing about that moment. The way neither of you rushed, neither of you wanted nothing more but to be with each other, for that one moment of playing pretend.

You weren’t accustomed to things like those. You had forgotten what it was like to have that kind of level of closeness, and the last person on earth you would’ve expected to find that with was Javier.

But he was doing even that right. Even slow motions, deep and confident, were maddening. The sole idea of having him so deep inside of you, making love to you instead of fucking you mercilessly, it was uncanny.

Your nails dug into his back muscles, trying to make him attentive, but there was no need for it. Javier felt every movement you did, felt each portion of you, and he grunted as his climax washed over him, momentarily smirking as you came as well. The rush he got from coming at the same time with you was absolutely blissful. Nothing he ever tried or had could possibly compare to that. He came into you, peppering messy kisses on your lips, his cock pulsing and twitching in delight.

“J-Javier – oh, fuck – “

He leaned over your shoulder, thrusts slowed to the point of scarcely moving, but at the same time, unable to stop.

“Fuck, you’re so – so – “

Javier couldn’t finish his thought. His orgasm took him out, encircling him with a unique feeling that he didn’t want to go away.

You caught your breath just as you pulled him in for another kiss, just as slow as before, but with a whole lot of neediness added to it. Any anger and frustration you ever felt towards him, any resentment, they were all gone. You tried to regain them, and even though you were sure you could still have the same mind-blowing sex if you wanted to, that particular moment replaced it all. It was sincere, unexpected, and you began to wonder if you truly wanted only that from now on.

“You do look gorgeous, by the way,” he said, daring to move again, making you gasp.

“You can’t compliment me like that. You only do that – “

He thrust again.

“– If you either wanna get in bed with someone – “

Another thrust.

“Or if you like them.”

Another thrust.

“And neither… are our case.”

Javier stopped completely, staring at you in awe.

“No,” he agreed. “Of course not.”

He pulled out, searching for something to cover you with, but instead you crawled under the blanket, simply trying to catch your breath. You watch him fumble over his clothes, smiling to yourself.

“If you leave now, you’re only gonna make this seem very cheap,” you joked.

And Javier chuckled. “Wasn’t the rule ‘don’t make it personal’?”

“Aren’t we past that? We seem to be breaking that rule on the weekly.”

No arguments here, Javier thought. He snuck under the blanket as well, facing you curiously.

“What’s your deal against commitment? Why do you hate it?” he asked out of the blue.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Mine’s easy. Given the job, getting close to someone would be too risky. I don’t wanna deal with the emotions. I’m not quite… emotionally prepared to handle that kind of shit.”

You remained silent. You understood his reasoning, more so because you had the same principle, you felt the same way, but your buried truth was creeping up on you.

“Is the reason why you hate commitment also the reason why you hate your birthday?”

You flashed a bittersweet smile at him, facing away from him. A few flashbacks were suddenly portrayed on a black and white canvas in your memory, deciding that, just for the night, you could trust him as your equal, your partner at the office.

“You’re good,” you said.

“Been working in the DEA for a while now.”

You mustered the courage to come clean, but it was no easy thing. It felt like the words were crushing your windpipe.

“I was with someone, eleven years ago. Full on committed relationship and all. And he… he died. He got shot.”

Javier could only watch you play nervously with your fingers, trying to hide your face underneath the cascades of hair falling down your shoulders.

“I was training for the DEA, he was training for the police. We had a date set, the night before my birthday, and I waited for over an hour. Eventually I thought he forgot, so I went to his apartment, but he wasn’t there. Then I went to the station he was assigned to. And… they told me he got shot. During practice. He… was shot twice, in his head and then in his heart, but he was already dead by the first bullet. And it was all… over.”

Javier didn’t reply. He didn’t know if there was anything he could’ve said to comfort you or express genuine sadness over your story, but the full image of you grew clearer with that story, and he began to see you in a whole new light.

“After the funeral, I went to gather my things from his apartment before his family came to donate everything he had. And I… in a drawer, there was a… there was this ring. Uh…”

You frowned, face heavy underneath the crushing weight of your impending tears and confession, but you powered through.

“Apparently he wanted to propose the next day, on my birthday. And after that… after he died, he took a huge chunk out of me. A huge piece of me was just… gone, like he was, and I swore off dating and emotional attachments since then. I decided it was too painful, and ultimately not worth it.”

“That’s why you freaked out over – this.”

He gestured at the room, looking around it, not even recognizing himself. He was not the sappy, gooey or romantic kind of man, he never really was. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure what compelled him to act so over-the-top then, knowing you refused anything that might have suggested a more intimate connection. He hacked his brain for days, maybe even weeks, in his search for the highly desired closure he thought he needed.

But it wasn’t closure he needed. He didn’t need to understand why or how you cast that kind of maleficent spell on him.

He just needed to be with you.

“Last time I was close to someone, they died, so… I am not exactly thrilled over commitment,” you added.

“That’s… perfectly understandable.”

He fell into a somber silence, realizing that the extent of you two was that. Sex.

So he had to cast it away from his mind.

“When it was just rough and speedy sex with you, I thought, well if he dies out there, I’ll feel bad for a bit, because we were colleagues, but not so much because I hate this guy. It was the easier option.”

“Was?”

You faced him again, eyes still teary.

“Javier, I – I – “

You couldn’t say anything from what you might’ve liked to. The words just refused to come out, purposefully blocking themselves between your brain and your mouth.

“I do hate you,” you said instead in the softest voice possible.

Javier smiled, quickly sacking it, before replying with an equally soft “I hate you just as much.”


	9. Call out my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on another night out, things get tricky when Steve confronts you. So naturally, you take your frustration elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: handcuffing, male masturbation, cunnilingus, teasing and overstimulation/multiple orgasms.

The morning came sooner than you had expected. Last night had been like a dream, one that you didn’t dare reminisce about, but it was impossible.

It was not the first time you and Javier hit the sheets, and yet it felt like it was the first time you ever felt him in such an intimate setting. He had broken every rule the previous night by being… gentle. He had been gentle, caring and soft, and it threw you off entirely. You glanced at Javier on the opposite side of the room and you ran your index over your lips, the muscle memory almost forcing you to reminisce the touch of his mouth on your skin. You gasped, shaking your head.

_Don’t do this to yourself._

Javier seems to be searching for his clothes when you chuckle, catching his attention.

“You have a very cute butt.”

You definitely caught him by surprise, for he turns grumpily at you, visibly displeased. Even so, you swear you see a light in his eyes, a playful acceptance of your compliment.

He marches back to you, resting on top of you as he stares you down, and you feel the need to rectify.

“The front, however…” you admitted, biting on your lower lip.

Javier bites down on your neck, his teeth and tongue creating a fiery stimulus on your body. He hovers above you, eager to feel you again, to slide himself inside of you.

“What?” you nearly snap at him.

He huffs, pondering over the potential explanation he could give to you. His mind was a nest filled with quite simplistic requirements and needs, but lately he began to discover that the implications of that, what you and him were doing, were perhaps much more entangled than originally envisioned.

So he just says it bluntly, in the only way he knows how to. “I wanna fuck you into this mattress until it breaks beneath you, until you scream my name loud enough for this whole fucking hotel to hear. For the whole city to hear – “

_Who you belong to._

But he says nothing of the sort out loud.

There was nothing outside the physical arrangement. _Nothing_.

You stare at him, playing in your head the nasty visuals he had just provided you with, and you maintained the best poker face you can.

“Our presence is needed elsewhere.”

He sighs, at last getting dressed, and you follow suit.

It was easy to focus on the present where nothing was complicated, where it all just… made sense. It was just two bodies finding each other, bringing pleasure to each other. It was basic. The touches, the rush, those all came from the same bodies. So then why the hell did all that adrenaline kick in so agonizingly fast, spreading through your body like wildfire? Where the hell did it came from even?

 _Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you are_ _?_

_You do look gorgeous, by the way._

_No, you didn’t. You shouldn’t. You never did, and you never should._

_Why did you do it?_

_I don’t need that kind of aggravation from you. Please._

You went about the day as usual: working. You and Javier purposefully avoided each other at the office, as if you didn’t even knew each other, and it was true. There was a huge wall in between you two, separating the two furious seas that were your personalities. 

You took a single brick out the previous night, though.

You knew you shouldn’t have. You knew it was precarious to begin with.

But you just _had_ to get under it and pull it out, leaving the hole out in the open, exposed and available for further torment.

Javier listened to you attentively, probably feeling sorry for you and now that he had some sort of explanation for the messed up way that you were, he was more than fine with enjoying your body when it came to him, unwrapped and ready to go.

And that was all that you had to offer to him, anyway.

“How was your birthday after all?” Steve asked you as you prepared to leave the office.

You hesitated, eventually smiling fondly at him. “It was… nicer than I thought. Much nicer.”

“Yeah? Glad to hear that. See you at the bar in an hour?”

“You know it.”

Truthfully, you would’ve rather stayed at home. The entire day, sequences of the previous night stalked you mercilessly, allowing you no moment of peace. The tenderness Javier had shown to you was unlike anything you’d ever felt, and that included your last relationship, the one you barely remembered. There were bits and pieces left of it inside you, but you sunk them so deep that the entire thing just felt like a dream you once had.

And now, to feel that same softness again…

_No._

In the end it was all _but_ good. It led to pain. Immense, inconsolable pain.

But a promise was a promise. You changed your clothes with some more that were more suitable for a night out and placed your gun safely in your purse, just in case. You had to carry with you the knowledge that you were still a woman in a man’s world, especially one predominated by drug lords.

When you got to the bar, it was, unsurprisingly, crowded. Luckily you were able to identify Claudia without exertion, smiling eased as you saw her, then Steve, Horacio and his wife and, at the end of the booth, Javier. You fleetingly noticed him smoking alongside his beloved whiskey, making eye contact with no one. You reciprocated by politely greeting everyone but him and sitting next to Claudia.

“Did you get to spend your birthday like you wanted?” she asked you right away.

Again you hesitated, feeling a harsh breath stuck next to your vocal chords. In spite of it, you smile. “It was very nice.”

“I know you said you don’t celebrate your birthday, but… we all got you a little something.”

It was then that you observe the packages on the table. You sigh, giving everyone present the stink eye, but, deep down, appreciating their kindness nonetheless. Claudia encourages you with a single look to start opening them, and you did.

Claudia’s gift was, naturally, thoughtful and feminine: a beautiful pair of earrings. Steve followed up closely with a lovely necklace, and Horacio and his wife got you a very expensive bottle of wine, one of the most exquisite and known worldwide. You thanked each and every one of them with a shy hug. It was comforting to know that, in all of that time, you have at least managed to make some good friends, and that it hadn’t all been bad.

“Oh, this one’s from Javi,” Steve said, pushing a red, wide package to you.

Frowning, you took it in your hands, searching, for the first time that night, Javier’s eyes. But they were nowhere near to be found. You needn’t search again nor think about it again. Confused still, you opened the package, a soft gasp escaping your trembling lips. You couldn’t believe that Javier broke yet another sub-rule. He made it all the more personal by offering you that gift, when he was the only one you told that you fully disagreed with presents.

“What is it?” Horacio asked.

Still stupefied, you take out a gorgeous, long red dress, examining it endlessly. Gasps are heard from the table, especially from the ladies.

“Wow!” Steve exclaims. “How much did you spend on this, Javi?”

“It’s a gift. The price isn’t relevant,” he says from the end of the booth.

“This is a stunning dress, Peña,” Claudia gasps, tailing the dress with investigative eyes. “It must’ve cost a fortune!”

“What is everyone’s obsession with money?”

“Thank you,” you addressed him.

He nods in your direction, finishing his whiskey. You pushed no further and ordered your own whiskey, tucking the dress back inside the package, at your feet. You didn’t want to look at it, at least for the rest of the evening. It was yet another thorn in that entanglement, an unkind reminder of the messy situation you had gotten yourself into.

And Javier knew what he was doing. He was doing it right. The less eye contact, the better. The less words, the better.

“Oh, and another thing,” Claudia says, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’m not sure whether this can be considered as a birthday present or not, but… I’ve discussed with Wysession and, since you want to stay here until we bring the cartels down, he thought your transfer is more than suitable afterwards. So… if it’s what you really want… congratulations. It’s been approved.”

Your smile is faint, but you thanked her all the same. You got what you wanted.

Medellin was about to be another forgotten chapter in your life.

So whatever time you had left, whatever was left there for you to make memorable, you should’ve just done it.

You were on your fourth whiskey when the music actually started to be good. Different renditions of old songs, newer beats were enchanting your eardrums, and you noticed the Carrillo spouses on the dance floor, as well as Javier and Claudia dancing casually. Javier seemed much more rigid than usual, and you figured he was only being polite towards the big boss, otherwise he would’ve relaxed a little more.

At least that’s how he was with you.

“I swear, if Javi pulls a move on Messina… I swear to God, I’m switching offices,” Steve chuckled in your ear.

You do the same, nervously, the statement hitting an unusually soft spot in your brain now.

“Even he’s not that stupid or desperate,” you reply.

“I don’t know about that. He pretty much bangs everything that moves. Everything with boobs and a nice ass, that is.”

_Well that’s a hot take on whatever it is that we’re doing over here._

“I’m surprised he hasn’t made a move on you yet, to be honest.”

_Oh, Steve._

_The moves he’s done were more than just on me._

“He… hates me,” you respond dryly. “That’s why.”

Your tone feels distant, cracked, unlike your usual one, but the whiskey going down your throat and burning you does a little something to help.

“Hm. I’ve seen him pissed off at women before, and he handled it in the way he usually did,” Steve mentions.

“Fucking his anger out.”

_I’m more than familiar with that._

“Yep. In times like those, it sucks to be his neighbor.”

“He must really hate my guts in this case,” you add.

Steve shrugs, focusing on his beer while you order yet another whiskey. You needed to feel dizzy, you needed to numb yourself out, to immunize yourself against all of the things that were threatening to disarm you emotionally.

“Can I ask you something?” you turn to Steve.

“Of course.”

“It’s… it might be triggering for you. I hate to bring it up but… aside the Carrillos who are not here right now…”

“Just ask your damn question already.”

You inhale, unaware until then just how much you had been struggling with what you were about to say. “You and Connie, when you met… how did you – how did you know she was…”

“The one?”

You scrunch your nose. The sound of those two words together rubbed you off in the wrong way and they simply did not sit well with you.

“Not… ‘the one’,” you try to explain, “but just… how did you know you loved her? Didn’t it… scare you? Didn’t it terrify you to your very core knowing that… no matter how hard you tried to fight it, to shove it down and ignore it, make it go away… you still loved her?”

Steve examines you for a moment, bewildered. “I… didn’t try to fight it. I just knew it. And I embraced it.”

“Oh.”

_I suppose that’s what normal functioning people do._

“If anything, it thrilled me,” Steve continues, fondly reminiscing. “I mean… on some level, yeah, it did scare me. The realization that, holy shit, I would take a bullet for this woman, it was scary, but… it was real. When you know, you just know it. You feel it in your bones, in your chest, everywhere. It fills up and empties you at the same time. And if it is scary… it means it’s the real deal. It means you’ve got something to lose.”

You listen to the speech, replaying all of the times you’ve felt angry and scared and caught off guard with and by Javier, and you huff.

“But when you – when you came here, when Connie had to sit idly by while you were out there dealing with death every day… that was fucking scary for sure.”

“It was. She was petrified, but it was a risk worth taking. I was not only doing my job, but protecting her as well.”

You were getting restless. It was then that the high percentage of alcohol in those five glasses of whiskey truly hit you, and your eyes flew to the middle of the bar where Javier and Claudia were, landing back on Steve, blank.

“How the hell… how can one live with the crushing pressure, the pain, knowledge of losing someone in the line of duty?”

Your voice is completely shaky, and even Steve picks up on it.

“Whoa, hey, come here,” he says, wrapping one arm around you as the air supply to your lungs was nearly completely cut out. “Let’s get some air.”

“I don’t need air. I don’t – I just need – “

“A drink?”

You shook your head, fighting a losing battle with your inner emotions.

“No? Y/N, what’s going on? Seriously.”

What could you respond? Too many things all at once, all the time. The color in your cheeks drained itself out, leaving you with a rather washed complexion as you looked around anxiously.

It was a full-on panic attack, and you knew it well. You just had to disguise it.

But it was silly and futile to even attempt to.

“I don’t think I can go through that again,” you murmur near Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not emotionally equipped for that, I… that kind of suffering and torment, I – I can’t. I won’t. Fuck.”

“What happened to you before?”

You look at Steve, unable to offer any conclusive response. All of the little pieces that made up your persona were scattered throughout you, destroying every rational part of your essence. How could you explain that to Steve? Or to anyone, really, when you could barely explain it to yourself?

“What’s going on?”

The voice is entirely different than the one from before. It’s huskier, meaner by default, and more familiar. You lock eyes with Javier for the first time that night, and it is no rough look. It is not indifferent, it is not mean nor cruel.

It’s… caring, somehow. There was something in it that just radiated _care_.

“Nothing,” you reply, catching your breath at last. “It’s fine.”

“Come on. Dance with me.”

He drags you from Steve’s arms, much to the latter’s curiosity, and leads you to the dance floor without anything else said. His fingers intertwined with yours, the touch ravishes your disposition entirely.

“Don’t tear into each other!” Steve shouts behind you.

“Oh, shut up, Murphy!” you fire back.

The moment Javier’s hand sneaks delicately on your back, you exhale, positively calm this time. You’re feeling tipsy again, the scent of cologne, alcohol, cigarettes and sweat creating some sort of Mandela effect on your mind.

“So what happened back there?” he asks you without hesitation.

“I… asked Steve for some advice and I… spiraled a bit.”

“Why? What did you ask him?”

You want to be stubborn and cocky, but your poor heart doesn’t allow you to. Not just yet, when he’s behaving like a decent person for once, soft and concerned.

You actually like it. You’re enjoying it. You’re actually thinking of using that against him the next time he’s acting like an ass.

Because with him, there’s guaranteed to be a next time.

“I asked him… how did he knew he loved Connie.”

Javier says nothing. He holds you in his arms, eyes on the crowd instead of you. His fingers graze your wrist just slightly, getting a fluttering heartbeat from thereon after. 

“You’re not gonna question why did I –?”

“No,” he cuts you off sharply. “Just because something needs to be said or known, it doesn’t mean it needs to be heard.”

He’s blunt and honest, in an outstanding premiere, and you receive the message. He doesn’t care for that and he doesn’t want to know the answer. Maybe he’s afraid of it, maybe he just doesn’t care for it at all.

So you program yourself to think the same.

“You were right,” he says suddenly. “Yesterday. Something changed. I’m not angry anymore. Not that angry, at least. And you’re… I just… I want you.”

“And still fuck your other girlfriends?”

You didn’t mean to come across as rude, but it happened anyway.

Javier stares at you, visibly upset. “No,” he rasps.

“Oh, _please_. Just yesterday you said you refuse any commitment because the job has priority, and – and it does. Because you’re afraid of the hurt and – “

“Aren’t you?”

_Touché._

“Aren’t we both running away from the same thing, for the same reason? And who said anything about committing?”

He’s just as blunt and cocky and you’re eased to a certain extent. That’s the Javier you know, the one you despise, and the one that should remain intact.

“And here we go again, on the verge of another fight,” you smile masochistically.

“What do you expect? This is what we do best, what we know how to do flawlessly. We’re so fucking similar, we know each other’s patterns and – and everything about each other!”

“We don’t know shit about each other!”

Javier lets go of you and it shocks you somehow. The lack of touch disarms you for a fleeting moment.

“Your heart breaks whenever we find another dead body, regardless of who they are,” Javier mutters right in your face. “You smile for three seconds whenever you see a kid on the street because you’re so fucking sympathetic. You like to work at night when the office is empty because it’s quiet and there’s no one around to judge you or lie to you. And you… you are just like me. Filled with self-hatred and self-doubt, and you know that nobody does it better than you do.”

 _Nobody does it better than you do._ That felt like a subtext, a secret double message that you, as usual, read into and tear it down word by word, vowel by vowel. And Javier was, once again, angry. Angry at how similar the two of you were, at how hard you worked against each other, at pretty much everything.

“And the anger has returned,” is all you say back to him.

“What are we gonna do about it?”

He asked like he didn’t know the answer. He was cocky and obnoxious, the way you preferred him, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“I’m assuming the usual?” you shrug.

“You still need to take it easy.”

“How considerate you are all of a sudden.”

“There are moments.”

He leans in as if to plant a kiss on your face, anywhere, but he doesn’t do it. He lingers, taking in your scent, your presence, and moves to your earlobe.

“Meet me at my place in half an hour.”

You shiver. “I thought you said – “

“There’s more to satisfaction than roughness.”

And that he proved yesterday. Marvelously so.

“Didn’t you just say this morning you’d like to fuck me into the mattress until I screamed your name for the entire town to hear it?”

“It’ll have to wait.”

He pulls away, disappearing into the crowd, and you begin to gather your thoughts. There was something finally good about that night, something you could actually anticipate and lose yourself into. You craved those intimate moments because they were your way out of… everything. Nothing else was relevant except feeling him on you, under you, inside of you, everywhere around you. And you dreaded the end of them because everything else hurt again once you stopped.

You return to the bar, surprised to see Steve in the same place, a weird, smug look on his face. “I see you’re both alive,” he says.

“We can be civil.”

“Right. You seem different around each other though.”

“How? We’re… the same we’ve always been.”

“You’re actually in a good mood. You’re agreeing on… things.”

Something clicks for Steve. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he stares at you, wide-eyed.

“What?” you ask, bedazzled.

“Fucking hell. Fucking… _hell!_ ”

“What?!”

He smirks at you. “Javi did put the moves on you, didn’t he? He put them on you _good_.”

The accentuated last word was so filthy, you shivered again, more so because it was true and it messed with you.

“He didn’t put any fucking move on me,” you say.

It was true to a certain extent. He never flirted with you, he never tried to get under your skin… none of that.

“You guys are fuckin’, aren’t you?”

“Real classy, Steve.”

“Holy shit! Is that how you got the limp??”

He was laughing by that point, and it made you frustrated. You may have broken the first rule, but you’d be damned if you’d break the other one. There had to be a line drawn somewhere.

“No! No, no, not even a bit, no! No, absolutely not. Stop assuming shit.”

“ _Oh my God_. But it makes so much fucking sense! You two are… the most perfectly fucked up pair!

“You’re not even hearing me right now, are you?”

“This is so insane! I mean… you and Javi. You… and Javi – “

“There’s no me and Javi! Okay? Look at me. We did not – there is nothing. Nada. Nothing happened, nothing is happening, nor will it ever happen. So dial down this over-the-top reaction.”

“Y/N. come on. This is Javi we’re talking about. Javier Peña, the irresistible ladies man.”

“You sound like you have something for him.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Exactly. Javier Peña whom I despise, the one who despises me, the one I always fight with, contradict, annoy… that’s how things are. We’re two sworn enemies who found a… granted, unconventional method to deal with each other, but still.”

“No. Wait a minute.”

If you thought Steve’s facial expression from before radiated shock and express discovery, you were wrong. The one he has right now, staring at you perplexed, that one is the winner.

“What, what now?” you ask, slightly annoyed.

Steve snickers, a coy smile still on his lips. “Javi said… when you guys feel like you’re about to fight… you ‘go at it’. You ‘really go at it’.”

“Steve… no.”

You were fuming. The second rule you had established months ago was the one thing holding your sanity in one piece, and you were not about to let Steve, Javier’s… sole friend, for that matter, to uncover anything.

“Holy crap,” he continues. “He actually meant… _going at it!_ That’s why you guys stopped fighting!”

“We never stopped fighting. Just – just cut it out, okay? Cut it out.”

“Psh, it all makes so much sense now!”

“No, it doesn’t! Nothing makes sense! None of this makes sense! It was supposed to be like… medicine, one pill you take when you need it and – and now, you’re hooked on the stupid pill, you need it every day, even if you know damn well, you know it hurts you to consume it like that, it hurts in the long term because you have to stop. You have to stop because it will end one way or the other and it’s… all fucked up.”

Steve listens to you and frowns, figuring out the delicate situation he just put you in. You truly are Javier’s identical copy, he thinks. Stubborn, unwilling to open up and realize the bad habits tearing you apart.

“Y/N. Do you… do you feel something for him?”

It was your turn to be stunned. You could’ve easily laughed right in his face, but the time for making fun of things was way past.

“Is that why you asked me about me and Connie? Do you love him?”

You chuckle, the most sarcastic smirk on your face. “I told you. I hate the man.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I know my own feelings, Murphy. Drop it.”

You couldn’t be more serious or insistent. You gather all the presents you’ve received, including the red box from Javier, forced now again to face it, and headed for the exit. Right at the door, you locked eyes with Javier again.

Whether the music was at fault, the dancing, the remnants of Javier’s touch over your lower back, or the drinks you consumed, the sudden eye contact you made with him was seismic, almost crushing. It burned through you, sought you out and called out for you hungrily. You walked up to him, barely even blinking, barely aware of your surroundings.

“I think Murphy knows,” is the first thing to come out of your mouth.

Javier says nothing in return. He only stares at you. You wonder if he heard you right, or if he gave a shit about what you said if he did. It’s almost as if he’s acknowledged your information but chooses to do nothing with it. And you accept it.

Just like you accept his hand when he calls for a cab and you finally arrive back at his apartment.

It’s just as you remember from that night when he – when things got too heated and too rough. If you would’ve told anyone that Javier Peña gave you a sex injury… well, you weren’t sure if anyone would laugh or smile, but there sure as hell would be divided opinions on it. You were most certain that the feminine population would swoon and line up to be fucked by him. Not that they weren’t doing that already, probably.

“If Murphy knows – “you start, picking up the conversation right where you left off at the bar, as if the cab drive to his apartment hadn’t been dead silent.

“I don’t wanna talk about Murphy. I don’t wanna talk about anyone or think about anyone.”

His tone was consistent and harsh like his grip, and it suddenly got you excited. He helps you lay out the gifts in the living room and grabs your wrist, a tight and secure grip holding it still, as he leads you to his bedroom.

 _His bedroom_ , you realize. Foreign territory. A paradise for any prostitute who has ever been in there. Now, you were no prostitute, by no means, but… suddenly, you feel like another number in his life.

And, at the end of the day, you’re fine with that. He might treat you a little differently, but being just a passing, random number in his life in the sea of mistresses he’s had makes you feel at ease. That way, you know that things can never turn into anything more.

That craving can never become for something else, something more significant.

Javier still says nothing to you as he searches for something in a drawer, so you take it upon yourself to initiate some sort of verbiage of a conversation.

“The dress. Why did you give me that?”

He doesn’t turn to you. He’s focused on finding whatever he was looking for.

“It’s a gift. Just take it and move on.”

“It’s a gorgeous dress.”

“For someone gorgeous.”

When he finally turns around, he sees you shaking your head several times. “No,” you said, tone firm and steady. “No, not that again. Don’t say that.”

Javier frowns. “It’s… a compliment. I can be nice. But if you insist I’m not – “

“You compliment women you try to fuck or trick into giving you intel. That’s it. I fit into neither of those categories, so… don’t do that. Don’t tell me nice things.”

He approaches you, and you hear a metal dangling in his hands for which you disrupt the eye contact and look down. You gulp, caught off guard again.

 _Handcuffs_.

You stare at him, unable to say anything just yet.

“You don’t want me to say nice things to you?” he asked.

“No.”

“You want me to be the guy you hate.”

“Blindly hate.”

“Fine. Then I’m not gonna ask you nicely to do this. Take off your clothes.”

You quickly glance at the bed and decide to stare back at him, cruelly, without making a single movement. You already knew that contradicting him was a weak spot of his, reaching right into the pleasure center of his brain, which is located, ironically or not, right next to the hatred one, and you know the two are terribly mixed together whenever you’re alone with him.

“Take off your fucking clothes,” he mutters to you, and you obey.

Once you’re butt naked, you look at him as if for approval, though you both there’s no need for it. It just feels uncomfortable by that point.

“Lay down on the bed.”

Again you obey. The room is hot, much like the weather outside and you could’ve started sweating right then and there, but instead, your body feels boneless as you lie on the bed, leaning slightly against the headboard. You gasp out loud when Javier finally moves to you and constricts both your hands to the sides of the headboard.

“Why do you have two sets of handcuffs anyway?” you ask.

It’s probably very anti-climactic to ask that, downright stupid, but you still did it.

“A good agent always has a spare,” he says, on all fours on the bed and crawling before you. “And they’re useful right now.”

You gulp, completely sober again. The way he’s crawling on all fours to you, almost seductively, hungrily, spreading your legs further for him… fucking hell, your blood boils in your veins, and so does your skin.

Javier doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t use any verbal torment. Just the physical one, the one guaranteed to madden the both of you without fail, each time. He positions his face between your thighs and he goes _to town_ on you.

You tug at the handcuffs, loudly, but he doesn’t mind. You moan, struggle to keep your composure, but it’s pointless. Javier bites on your thighs, making sure he’s leaving marks on them, his tongue glides in and out of you without any real aim, really, just to hear you moan and to feel you squirm. You’re aching _everywhere_ as he continuously marks his territory, licking your pussy, soaking in your juices like the sweetest nectar in the whole world. You feel your orgasm build inside of you ridiculously fast, and you moan in short-lived sequences that delight his ears and make him rock hard. He probably says something while he’s sucking on your core because you feel it reverberate in your entire body, but you don’t give a shit. You just want to cum. You just want to cum on his face, you just wanna ride his face until your hips give out on you –

But he stops.

Right before you can reach absolute paradise, the son of a bitch _stops_.

“What the fuck, Peña?!”

“You’re not gonna cum unless I want you to.”

The startling memory of your first sexual encounter hits you in waves, unlike your orgasm.

 _“Fuck you,”_ you mutter.

“Not tonight.”

The anger made a comeback, and you were somewhat relieved. Without it, you were… afraid. You bite down on your tongue to not ask or beg for anything. You might have done it once, but no more. You couldn’t.

Fingers dip into your soaked slit, gathering an obscene amount of wetness, wetness that he takes to his mouth and tastes right under your needy eyes. Javier is harder than never before, but the look in your eyes, so vindictive and powerless makes it all worth it. You bite down on your lower lip, noticing the bulge in his pants, admiring for a brief moment his determination.

“Would you just – “

You stop yourself just as Javier grins at you. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

Javier rises up on his knees and gets his cock out of his pants, giving himself a few strokes. You watched mesmerized as he rubbed his hardened length, the thought of having him inside of you making you wetter than before.

He stops for a moment, and this time you intervene. “Keep going.”

He looks at you speechless. Somehow you managed to leave him speechless again, but he doesn’t object at all. He continues stroking his cock, watching you fumble, trying to break out of the handcuffs and rubbing your thighs together in desperation.

“You like watching me do this?” he asks, moving faster.

You nod, the pool of juices in between your thighs nearly driving you insane. Hell, you can practically _hear_ how wet you are.

“You like seeing how hard you make me? Hm?”

You nod again, desperation growing. Fuck, he looks _so good_ like that. He’s impatient and his breaths are ragged and _God_ … the way you wanna see him cum…

“F-Fuck – fuck, I’m – can I – can I c-cum on you? _Please_ – “

 _Please?_ Did Javier just… beg you?

“Yes,” you gasp, unable to say anything else.

The speed with which he jerks off is almost too fast for your eyes to keep up with you. Air nearly leaves his lungs completely, and when he comes, he moves forward to you so that he’s spurting thick ropes of his seed over your thighs. The sight is deliciously lewd, but you’re so fucking wet that by this point you’d be ready to beg for him.

“Fuck – you look – so good spread like that – I gotta – “

“Would you just fuck me already?!”

The request comes out meaner than you had intended, but you don’t care. Javier doesn’t torment you this time and he thrusts in you abruptly, his cock reaching your g-spot each and every single time, expertly. He thrusts fast, animalistic almost, hands tight on the headboard. The angle is so good; he fills you spectacularly, stretching you deliciously. Your body rocks underneath his, and you’re close to crying tears of pleasure. But instead you feel your orgasm close and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“God, look how g-good you take me – fuck – “

You can’t mutter a single word for the life of you, and when you cum around him, you scream his name for the whole building to hear it.

_For the whole town to hear who you belong to._

And you scream again soon after. And a third time after that when he finally removes the handcuffs and takes you from behind.

Nobody did it like him, and you knew it.


End file.
